A Coming End
by Massa
Summary: Feinster has fallen and the Varden is one step closer to winning the war. CP's cast of characters fight to end the evil king's reign once and for all. Also, will Arya and Eragon's relationship be defined? Please R&R. My take on Book 4.
1. Scouting

The cool breeze gusted at them as Saphira circled, high above the world. Arya had her arm tightly around his waist and was looking straight ahead. Eragon couldn't have thought of a better way to spend his day despite the fact that he was on a scouting mission. He usually didn't like those, but this time it was different. The weather was perfect for flying and he was spending time with Arya.

Saphira angled down and landed in the woods outside Belatona. It was not hard for two elves disguised by magic as humans to sneak into the city, but a dragon was an entirely different matter. Eragon and Arya dismounted and transformed their appearances into those of two road weary travelers. Then, as they examined their work, Eragon frowned and cast a spell to make their swords invisible to all but them. Finally, they were ready. They walked toward the road leading to the front gate and Eragon couldn't help a smile. There were hundreds of new refuges pouring into the city every day. Why would two more make anyone suspicious?

The disguised rider and elf fell into line behind a family with three young children who all looked as if they were starving. The mother was tireddly trying to hush the youngest child who would not stop his wailing. Eragon wanted to give them the food in his pack, but held back, knowing that it could give them away if they seemed to have more than the others. Gritting his teeth against the hungry child's cries, Eragon continued walking.

They were halted outside the gates and Eragon glanced at Arya. _Do not speak. I should be the one to handle this. _He felt a flare of anger from her. _Think, Arya. What human woman would speak for the man she is traveling with? And your voice is still that of an elf. It betrays that you are no downtrodden human._

_As you wish. _The tone of her voice remained cold and Eragon was about to continue to appease her when one of the guards walked up to him with a bored look on his face. "What are your names?"

"Evan." Eragon lied easily. "Evan Natansson. This is my wife, Delia."

"What brings you here?"

"Hard times, I'm afraid. We had a farm several leagues from here, but it lay in the path of the Varden. We knew if we didn't flee we would be killed so we took what little money we had and left. I was apprenticed to a locksmith years ago and trained to journeyman level. I was hoping to continue that line of work again here."

The guard laughed. "We are in the path of a large army and you think to find work as a locksmith? Save your time, friend, and join the army. You are young and strong enough I'd wager. Pays well too."

Eragon managed to give the man a grateful smile. "I'll look into that. Where would I go?"

"Go up to the castle and tell them you wish to join. Someone will be sent to speak with you." He waved them through.

"Thank you."

Eragon and Arya passed through the gates and Arya stared at him in amazement. "If I didn't know better, _I _might have believed you. You spoke as if it was truly your life story."

"I didn't want him suspicious. If we were to be followed today it would make our work much more difficult."

She smiled and continued walking. "Delia?" She pushed.

Eragon turned his head to look at her. "I made it up as I was talking. It had completely slipped my mind to think of fake names. Eragon and Arya Shadeslayer would hardly pass unnoticed. I've used Evan before, but I have learned that two overly common names will attract more suspicion than one uncommon one. Hence, Delia." He shared her smile by then. "Now, Nasuada told us to judge the citizens' loyalty to the king. Are they ardent supporters or resigned slaves? Where shall we start?"

Arya considered it for a minute. "Let's find an inn and eat there. People are more likely to talk over a meal and drink than in the streets. Shall we?"

After two hours of talking to the people of Belatona, Eragon had felt that they had judged the sentiment fairly well. It seemed the lord of Belatona and the richer citizens were loyal, but the lower class was tired of the injustice of the king. There were, of course, some oddities, but for the most part the city seemed restless at best. They went to a different gate to try and get out of the city, a much harder task.

Again, they were stopped at the gates by a guard and again Eragon stepped forward to speak. "We are leaving for Melian. I own a farm there and cannot stand to be away long."

The guard didn't look skeptical, but he eyed them closely. "Then what brought you here?"

Eragon glanced at Arya. "My wife's mother fell ill and we received a letter to come immediately. She was dead before we arrived though." Eragon let a note of sorrow creep into his voice and Arya looked at her feet, seeming for all the world as if she were upset.

"Continue." They walked through, continuing their slow pace until they were out of sight. Then, they ran back to Saphira and Eragon shared with her the day's events. A small fire was lit and they sat around it. Saphira closed her eyes and continued the nap which their return had interrupted.

Arya glanced at her companion. "Eragon, can I talk to you?" She knew the cause of the pained expression he bore when he believed no one was looking was her fault. She regretted that he had been forced to abandon his youth in exchange for the burdens he bore. He had stopped being a child the moment Saphira's egg had hatched for him, and in the following months he had almost entirely shed his youth for an ancient mantle he was not ready to bear, but did because there was no one else.

He looked at her and frowned. "Is something wrong, Arya?" His voice was gentle and concerned. At her request he was immediately listening and alert. Arya's throat tightened and she pressed her eyes closed, unable to respond to his question. Eragon came over and sat next to her. "Arya?"

His voice drew her out of her reverie and she glanced up to meet his eyes. "Why do you continue to pursue me when I have continually turned you away?"

He looked as if she had slapped him. The hurt returned to his eyes with a tinge of confusion. "I love you." They were speaking the ancient language so she knew he could not be lying.

"Why? All I have ever done is cause you pain."

His eyes begged her to stop tormenting him, but he seemed to feel obligated to answer her. "I could give you a thousand reasons, Arya, but when I am around you I feel better. You give me hope when no one else can. If I didn't know you, I don't know how I would convince myself to fight this war."

She was still watching him. Then, she stood. "Thank you for telling me." Without another word, Arya walked off into the woods where no one could see her and began to cry.

When she returned to Eragon and Saphira an hour later, Arya was composed and no one would have guessed how distraught she had been only moments earlier. Eragon was studying her face from by Saphira. He too had been crying; she could tell. He was leaning against Saphira's side and rubbing her scales absently.

As soon as Saphira saw her, she snaked her head over and snarled at Arya, bringing her head only a foot from her face. Arya's defenses of her mind were overwhelmed effortlessly by the angry dragon. _What cause do you have for torturing my rider so? It is not enough you continually deny him, but you have to point it out to him when he is trying to be a friend and rub the fact in. Do you know what this is doing to him? _Saphira sent a wash of emotions over Arya. She had never guessed the depth of his despair and heartache. _He loves you deeply, though I cannot see why. I suggest that, unless you wish me to bring you up to the mountain peaks and drop you, be more kind to my Rider._

"Saphira," Eragon spoke quietly and moved from where he had stood frozen. "Let her be, please."

Saphira turned her head to observe Eragon and then faced Arya once more. _Do not think I wouldn't. _Arya stood trembling. Every word the dragon had spoken was in the ancient language. She was rooted to the ground until Eragon touched her arm.

"I do not know what she said to you, but I will never let her harm you." Saphira hissed, but he ignored it. "Come on. We should return to the Varden." She got on Saphira's back nervously. She had not known how angry the dragon had become with her. Arya knew the small amount of words Saphira had spoken to her in the last few days had been cold and only spoken when necessary, but she had never suspected it had gone this far.

She stared at Eragon's back as Saphira glided over the camped army. She knew she had to tell him sometime. "I must." She accidentally whispered aloud.

"You must what, Arya." Eragon asked, turning to look at her.

"It's…" She had tried to say it was nothing, but the ancient language stopped the lie before it could be told. "Not yet, Eragon." He seemed puzzled, but turned to face forward again.


	2. A New Mission

**A.N. I apologize in advance for this chapter and promise the following ones will be much better. At least I kept it short. I'm still new to this as this is my first story. Don't give up yet. **

**Disclaimer: No. Obviously.**

Eragon was in his tent, lying back on his cot and trying to rest, when a messenger arrived. Without a word, he handed Eragon a letter and departed after a quick bow. The letter bore Nasuada's seal and he opened it curiously. They had stopped and told her off all that had passed as soon as he and Arya had returned from their scouting mission. What did she need him for so soon? He had only departed little over an hour ago. Eragon glanced down at the letter. It contained one word: urgent.

Immediately, Eragon stood and grabbed his sword from where it leaned against the frame of his tent. Sending a mental call to Saphira, he joined her outside and they went to Nasuada's tent.

Saphira landed in a cleared area especially for her, and Eragon slipped down. The four Nighthawks guarding the entrance moved aside quickly, recognizing him. He stepped in to find Nasuada pacing, alone with Arya, but neither of them spoke as they were waiting for his arrival. "Eragon." She said with obvious relief. Saphira snaked her huge head through the opening made for her and blinked lazily at the three of them. Nasuada smiled slightly. "I have a new mission for you."

Eragon glanced at Saphira, who was trying to keep her eyes open but failing. "When would we leave?"

"Tonight."

"We cannot leave tonight, Nasuada. Saphira is exhausted. She has been flying all day and needs rest."

_Little One, _Saphira's voice broke in his mind, _let us hear what she has to say before we turn her down. I am a dragon. What is a little weariness to me? _She looked to Nasuada. _Eragon is right in that I'm tired, but what is the assignment?_

Nasuada couldn't help a smile to break over her face. "Do you remember those two women you blessed?" Eragon nodded slowly. "Their mission was to steal the last egg. They have removed it from Uru'baen, but are hiding in Melian, unable to return because they fear being discovered by the soldiers from which they are currently hiding. I wish you to go and take possession of it."

Shock and excitement flooded Eragon's body as he comprehended her words. The last egg! It was in the control of the Varden. Then he frowned. "Why did you not tell us of their mission? Do you not trust us?"

"There was nothing more you could have done to help after blessing them. Besides, it was highly improbable they would succeed. But that is of no moment. The question is will you agree to go?"

Eragon was smiling. Saphira was alert, no longer looking as if she was about to nod off. "We will leave tonight, but I do have one suggestion. Arya should come as well. She was the egg courier and it is only right that she is for this one as well."

"I had planned on sending her as well. I have already told her all the particulars which she will relay to you. I wish you luck."

Eragon looked at Arya. "I will meet you outside your tent in one hour. Be ready to go."


	3. Melian

**A.N. I am writing chapters faster than I expected. Please review my story. This is the first time I have written something for an audience and I appreciate advice. You guys are awesome.**

Saphira landed outside Arya's tent with a thud. She stepped out immediately, wearing her customary outfit. She leapt gracefully up on Saphira and wrapped an arm around Eragon's waist. He fought down his pleasure at having her so near and Saphira leapt into the air. Arya's arm tightened involuntarily as they climbed into the air, but when they had leveled off, she loosened her grip.

"We may have the egg by tonight."

"Yes." Arya had not spoken to him since they had left over several hours ago.

"Are you angry with me, Arya?"

"Angry?" She sounded surprised. "No, why?"

Eragon turned to look back at her. She wasn't lying. "I don't know. You seem quiet and earlier in Nasuada's tent you seemed cold to me."

"I don't know, Eragon. I've been thinking a lot lately." Her tone was aloof and he knew he would glean nothing from further questioning.

Eragon felt Saphira's boredom growing as they flew in the half-light. He could sense she was preparing for something, but didn't know what she was going to do until a few seconds before she did, pulling in one wing slightly and corkscrewing through the air. Arya's grip tightened on him painfully and he heard her sharp intake of air. _Saphira, stop! _She heard Eragon and leveled out. Arya forced herself to loosen her grip and take deep breaths. _You're making Arya sick. _He accused.

At his words he felt a sense of accomplishment and she blocked her mind to him, going into a series of acrobatic that left Eragon hanging on for his life. Finally, she spread her wings to the fullest and again they were drifting peacefully under the stars.

As Saphira was still blocking him, Eragon turned to Arya who looked as lightheaded as he felt. "Are you alright? I'm sorry. I don't know what her problem is."

Arya took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I'm just a bit dizzy." Arya reached out her mind to the blue dragon who, surprisingly, let her in. _What do you want from me? I'm sorry._

She gave a disdainful sniff and continued flying. _That was extremely childish, Saphira. _She growled. _You have chastised me many times for foolish actions, and as your rider it is my duty as well. Apologize to her. _He felt Saphira's reluctance and anger, but she reached out her mind to include Arya.

_Sorry, Shadeslayer, I should not have acted as I did. _An expression of complete surprise came over Arya's face and then she saw Eragon's satisfied expression. Despite her apology, Saphira did not look in the least remorseful. Rather, she seemed quite smug.

Ten minutes later, Saphira landed in a grove of trees two miles out of the city. She landed hard, jolting the riders on her back, but neither made any comment. It was after midnight and the two elves prepared to sneak inside the city. They casted spells over themselves to appear human, and then started off toward Melian.

Saphira walked beside them for a bit before settling to the ground. _Eragon. _She sounded as if she had gotten over her bout of peevishness.

_Yes, Saphira?_

_Be careful. And call me if anything goes wrong._

_I will. _He felt tension growing within him as they got farther away. He never liked being apart from Saphira; it made him feel empty and vulnerable. He shook the thoughts from his head and they began to run, slipping unnoticed through the forest like deer. Outside the city gates, Arya grabbed his sleeve.

"Here's what I know. The egg should be in the middle of the city where the women have it in an inn called the White Crane. We will be watched if we try to enter through the front gates, but there are houses built as part of the wall. I saw some windows. If we were to get in through those, no one would know better."

Eragon nodded and they walked over to the wall, carefully avoiding being seen by the sentries. He looked up at the window and then at Arya. She was staring up at the window. "What do you think is the best way?"

"You don't have a plan?"

Arya gave him a withering look. "I was asking for your opinion, Eragon."

He considered the window and then smiled, and idea coming to mind. He remembered how he had gotten away from Helgrind with Sloan. "Audr." He whispered and felt his feet rise slowly off the ground. Arya's eyes showed surprise and then amusement as he clambered through the window. "Your turn." He called down.

She repeated his spell, but lacked the nonchalance he had shown at being lifted from the ground. She was nearly at the window when she took a look down. Finding herself hovering twenty feet above the ground made her start and she lost the magic. With inhuman speed, Eragon reached and grabbed her hand as she fell. He pulled her through the window and she looked at him, wide eyed as she tried to catch her breath. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Thank you." Her face was once again serene, not showing a trace of the fear which had resided there only a second previously. "Let's go."

A light came from one of the hallways and a man came out carrying a lantern, his small wife hiding behind him. The man was holding a piece of wood like a club. "Slytha." They both slumped to the ground under Eragon's spell, the lantern clattering to the floor. Eragon picked up the lantern and set it upright. "So it does not start the house on fire." He explained to Arya. "Let's go." She watched his departing back with surprise. She would never have considered that.

Once in the street, Arya took the lead as she had the better idea where to go. The streets were strangely empty. Twice, men approached them, hoping for easy targets for thieving, but upon seeing the swords, they quickly left without incident. Another time, a drunken soldier stumbled across their path, muttering about low wages.

"Eragon, I think that is it." A cheery looking inn leaked light from the windows and door along with the sound of laughter and singing. "Now how do we get in their room without causing suspicion?"

Eragon could not help laughing. "We don't. What reason could there possible be for arriving in at the inn this late when the gates have been locked for hours."

"Then what do _you_ suggest we do?" her voice was cynical, but Eragon only smiled.

"They are in that room." He pointed to a window on the second floor, over the roof. "I can sense the egg." It was no hard matter for Eragon and Arya to jump and catch the edge of the roof and pull themselves up. Arya put a finger to her lips and slipped in through the window. She was gone for a moment and there was a quiet scuffle. Eragon entered and found her holding both women with her hands over their mouths. She was trying to keep the inn ignorant. "Brisingr." A small flame lit up the room. "I am Eragon Shadeslayer and this is Arya Drottningu. Eka eddyr ai Shur'tugal" He nodded to Arya and she released them, at the same time as she dropped their human disguises.

The younger woman was the first to recover from the shock. She curtsied to them each in turn. "My name is Vea. My mother is Alana. We are glad you have come." She walked to a chest in their room and withdrew and object wrapped in a gold cloth. She carried it over and placed it into Eragon's hands. Eragon trembled as he unwrapped it, and then he beheld the magnificent gem the egg was. It was emerald with streaks of a darker green. Smiling, he rewrapped the egg and handed it to Arya who hugged it against her chest protectively. Her lips made a tight line.

"The Varden is indebted to you greatly. Is there anything we can do to help you?" Arya looked at Eragon in annoyance. They knew nothing of these people and he was offering aid. But then she considered the egg. It was worth many fortunes for the Varden.

"Give us shelter. Protect us from Galbatorix until this war is over."

Eragon nodded agreement. He had expected they would bring the thieves back to the Varden anyway. It was an easy offer to accept. "Are any suspicious of you here?"

Alana, the mother, laughed. "Many are suspicious though they do not know what they are suspicious of. They will be too glad to see the backs of us to do anything."

"Will you meet us one mile east of the city tomorrow at dawn?" Arya asked. They both nodded. "Very well. Tomorrow." Arya slipped through the window and leapt from the roof to the ground without a sound. Eragon followed her, making only slightly more noise and they went back to the house. A young child of maybe six years was crying as he tried without success to wake his parents. A look of pity crossed Arya's face and she put him to sleep as well. She walked to the window and looked where she had almost fallen on the way in. "Eragon."

He hung by his fingers from the ledge and then dropped, landing with a roll. His shoulder smarted, but he stood immediately. "Drop me the egg first." Eragon said, holding out his arms.

She still clenched it against her chest. "I will not let harm befall this egg, Eragon. It is my duty and I have failed once already."

"You could drop it from a hundred feet up and I doubt it would break. Anyway, I'll catch it." Arya looked unsure, but she tossed it down to Eragon who caught it easily. She joined him on the ground and took it back, looking relieved. They ran quickly toward where Saphira was waiting. _Saphira! _He felt her crouch, ready to spring to their aid immediately. _No. We are fine. No problems. We have the egg! _He could feel her excitement and they rushed back.

Saphira greeted them enthusiastically and then stared at the bundle Arya held. Wordlessly, Arya unwrapped it and placed it between Saphira's clawed feet. She lowered her head and nudged the egg with her snout gently. It rolled over and she sniffed at it. Eragon realized that she was trembling and went to put a hand on her muscled shoulder. This dragon or Thorn was likely going to be her mate, and for the moment, the one in front of her was the one that wasn't her enemy.

Arya retrieved the egg. "I'm tired, Eragon. It is only a couple of hours to sunrise. I am going to sleep." She laid down where she was and promptly closed her eyes, the egg still held protectively beneath her arm. Eragon lay beside Saphira and her wing enveloped him in a blue tent.


	4. An Unlooked for Hope

**A.N. Please review me. I really want to write to improve, but ****that is difficult with no help.** **Questions, comments, suggestions, criticism, review!**_  
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_Little One, it is time. _Eragon stretched and yawned before crawling out from under Saphira's wing. He lightly tapped Arya's shoulder and she awakened immediately. They ate a light breakfast from the food stored in Saphira's saddlebags and walked to the designated meeting spot. The sun rose above the trees and they began to shift nervously on their feet. They had said dawn. Eragon exchanged a quick glance with Arya and saw the concern mirrored in her eyes.

"Do you think we gave them away?" Eragon asked quietly enough that a human standing at Arya's distance wouldn't have heard. For some reason it felt wrong to speak loudly at the moment.

"I can't see how we would have compromised them. I believe we went unnoticed." Nonetheless, she knew too well that something was wrong. "There!" She pointed out a horse in the distance. The horse galloped toward them until it stopped abruptly thirty feet from Saphira, completely lathered. The older woman was holding her daughter up on the horse, but the young woman was slumped against her mother's chest. Eragon lifted the young woman, Vea, down and placed her on the ground as Arya came to join him. It was a miracle the girl had survived as long as she had. There was an arrow through her chest from the back, and although it had missed her heart, it had punctured a lung. She breathed painfully and shallow, a drop of blood at the corner of her lips.

Meeting Eragon's eyes, Arya shoved the arrow the rest of the way through the girl's body, causing her to arch her back in the increased pain. She threw the shaft behind her and took Eragon's hand, losing no time to begin healing the girl. Finally, exhausted, they stopped, seeing that a group of men had followed them from the city and were nearing the range of their bows. The girl would live, but needed additional healing.

Eragon steadied himself with some of the energy in Brisngr before facing the men. He noticed Arya's limbs still trembled. She was too weak to be facing thirteen men, even if none were spellcasters. "Arya, strengthen yourself with some of the energy from my belt." She looked about to protest and then nodded as a stray arrow glanced off one of her wards.

Eragon turned to Saphira and the two women. "Get on her and go. She will take you directly to the Varden where I suggest you bring your daughter to Angela. Arya and I will meet you there when this is all finished." The older woman stared with wide eyes at the enormous blue dragon before her. "Now!" The woman clambered onto her back as Saphira gently lifted the younger one into her saddle with her teeth. Launching herself into the air, Saphira circled several times just out of range of the men's bows before winging off toward the Varden. "Together?" Eragon asked with a weak smile.

"Together. She affirmed. They waited until the men were close. Neither made any move to block the arrows that were coming at them. They glanced off the wards. It drained their strength slowly, but it unnerved the men who were facing them. Both drew sword simultaneously. As the first man reached them, Eragon struck, quick as a cobra, and the man fell to the ground dead. Then, with inhuman speed, they leapt, dancing through the panicked men who stood no chance. Eragon brought Brisingr up to block a mace, swung with the man's final breath before Arya killed him. Arya decapitated a man thrashing on the ground after Eragon had clumsily run him through the stomach, his thrust off target from having to dodge a sword.

They surveyed the carnage with disgust. Thirteen more lives had been wasted because of the war. Eragon turned away as he thought about their families, the wives and young children waiting for their fathers to return home. These men had been sent forever to the void. He heard Arya walk over and place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"It had to be done. Would you let us be killed to spare these lives?"

Eragon took a breath. I know it was necessary. It just seems such a waste."

Arya left him to his brooding and went to their light packs they would carry. Eragon was trying to forget the faces of the men he had killed, men just like the ones he had grown up with in Caravahall. He heard Arya gasp behind him. "Eragon!" she called, her voice shrill. "There is something wrong with the egg!"

Eragon rushed over and knelt beside her. He lifted the egg from her and examined it carefully. A large crack ran the length of the brilliant shell. Eragon could not help the laugh that burst from him. He embraced Arya quickly and smiled at her. "There is nothing wrong, Arya, nothing at all. He is hatching for you."

"No!" She backed away from the egg with a horrified expression on her face. Eragon could only stare. He had expected she would be shocked, confused, exhilarated, in awe. Honestly, he expected any reaction but the one she had given. He cautiously approached where she was standing, facing away, and placed the egg back in her hands. A loud squeak came from inside the egg and she looked at it with dread. She tried to hand it back to Eragon. "I can't. Not me." A tear ran down her cheek as she held the egg loosely in her arms.

"You will make a great rider, Arya. I do not understand, but you do not have a choice in the matter. He has chosen you." More cracks appeared and she placed the egg on the ground by her feet. Eragon put his arm around his shoulder and to his surprise she did not pull away. Rather, Arya laid her head on his shoulder.

The egg rocked, oblivious to the fact a rider and elf were watching its attempts to break free of the prison it had been in for many years. It continued squeaking and Eragon was taken back to the time when Saphira had hatched in the middle of the night. He had been scared too, but she was Arya, fearless princess of the elves, not some simple farm boy. Still, the look she gave the egg was fearful. After a while, the egg burst along the cracks and a small green dragon fell unceremoniously on to the ground as it tumbled from the confining shell. It righted itself immediately and stared with curious eyes at the new world it had stumbled upon. Then, its eyes fixed on Arya and she froze.

**A.N. Yes, I know you saw it coming, but I will not apologize. She is my second favorite character after Angela (you will see a bit of her later) and I thought she was the best choice.**

**P.S.** **I need to know what you guys think... CP hints at the werecats coming. It is up to you if the werecats show up in my story. Tell me what your thoughts are. Otherwise, who knows what will happen.**


	5. Wyrda

**A.N. Thanks to everyone who reviewed my story. As of yet it is indecisive about the werecats. Please enjoy. **

"What do I do?" The hatchling took a step towards her and Arya retreated away from the tiny dragon which was of a size with an average cat.

Eragon tried to smile reassuringly. "You have to touch him. The gedwey ignasia." He could barely contain his exitement from bursting through. He wasn't the only free rider anymore. He wasn't alone.

She nodded and crouched down. Seemingly in a state of shock, Arya followed his direction blindly. The little emerald dragon pranced over and stared at her, cocking its small triangular head. She reached out a trembling hand and the hatchling lifted its head to meet her half way. Arya screamed and fell back as soon as her dragon made contact. Eragon swore and knelt beside her. He had forgotten about that. She took a few minutes to catch her breath and then he helped her up. "Are you alright? I should have warned you." Arya didn't seem to hear him. A look of awe came over her face and she stroked the dragon's neck.

Arya could not help a smile as the hatchling crawled into her lap, mewling plaintively. She looked to Eragon. "I think he is trying to tell me he is hungry."

"He will be very hungry for the first few weeks. Until he can catch his own, you will have to provide for him."

Arya's face paled noticeably and her mouth made a thin line. "Eragon, I can't kill. Not even for him." Eragon looked at her closely. She had meant it. She knew the dragon had to eat, but was unable to produce the meat it needed.

With Arya already upset over something that he didn't understand, Eragon stood, not wishing to trouble her further. "I will go get something." It took only a second to locate a rabbit holed up somewhere deep in its warren. It took another second to kill it with one of the words of death. Eragon winced as the spark that was its existance winked out, gone forever. He pushed the wave of nausia away that came with the rabbit's death. Removing it from its den with magic, Eragon picked it up by the legs and walked back to Arya. He cut it open and then began to carve strips of meat from the rabbit's flesh and handing them to Arya despite the look of disgust and horror on her face. As Eragon cleaned the meat off the rabbit's bones, he could not help being transported back to a day when his life was much simpler, when he spent his time hunting in the Spine to provide for his small family. Arya stared at the meat and looked as if she were about be sick. Her moment of pause nearly cost her fingers as the hatchling leapt for the meat. Finally full, it curled up and promptly fell asleep.

Saphira had taken most of their belongings with her, but Arya managed to find the skirt she had worn into Melian. As Eragon watched, wondering what she was doing, Arya transformed the skirt into a sling and put it around her shoulder, gently lifting the sleeping dragon into it. He opened one eye and chirped a sleepy protest, but the hatchling did not fully wake. Satisfied with the arrangement, Arya stood and they began to run toward the Varden. The pace they traveled at was one slower than they normally would run, but Arya was trying her best not to jostle the sleeping dragon. It was as they were running that Eragon realized her face was still extremely pale.

"What is it about the dragon that worries you so? It is unlike you." She ignored him pointedly, but Eragon knew she had heard him for her pace quickened noticeably. As they covered the distance between Melian and the Varden, Arya pulled back the fabric of the transformed skirt to look at the hatchling, but it was still sleeping.

"His name will be Wyrda."

Eragon nodded his approval. "Why?"

Arya wouldn't look at him, but stopped running so she could better talk. "Faolin knew." The words came out with a bitter sound to them. "He knew and he didn't tell me. Faolin told me one night as we were sitting beneath the trees of Du Weldenvarden that he had seen a vision of me. He said in the vision I was surrounded by three dragons and following a man who led the nations." Her eyes met Eragon's for a fleeting moment. "I remember the expression on his face as he told me. I think he knew he was going to die." A crystal tear fell from her eye and Eragon reached out to comfort her, but as his hand touched her arm, he turned to where something had caught his eye.

"Barzul!" Arya turned and saw what Eragon was squinting at. A dragon with blood-red scales was winging its way toward them across the cloudless sky.

**Cliff hanger... **

**P.S. Is it just me or does anyone else think it would be fun to use the word 'barzul.' I think I may try it out.**


	6. The Ruby Dragon

**A.N. So, went with more detail in this chapter as a sort of experiment. Is it better than the others or does it need a lot more work?**

Eragon felt his stomach twist into a tight knot. He glanced at Arya and saw her eyes mirroring his worry. The sun glinted off the ruby-scaled dragon as it grew steadily closer. He stepped in front of Arya. "Protect Wyrda over everything." Eragon said quietly, his voice filled with fear. "I may have to deplete Aren. I had hoped to save it, but I will destroy them before they can harm either of you."

Arya bit back a hasty retort that immediately came to her tongue. This was not about him trying to protect her. Eragon knew very well she could defend herself, but he also knew much better how one would go about fighting a dragon. And Wyrda was helpless; he needed to be protected.

They stood together, facing the nearing dragon. "Where is Murtagh?" Arya's voice came suddenly from his side. Eragon squinted against the sun. She was right, Thorn bore no rider. Still a quarter mile away, Thorn landed heavily, stirring up a cloud of dust.

"Stay close." Eragon walked slowly toward the dragon, holding on to magic in case Thorn attacked. He also drew Brisingr and set wards around the infant dragon who was sleeping, oblivious to their peril. Thorn was several feet longer than Saphira now, despite the maimed tail and he was much broader in the chest. A low growl rolled through his throat as Eragon neared, holding the sword ready.

Then, the dragon settled to the ground, stretching out its head on the ground: a sign of submission. With cautious hope, Eragon walked toward the dragon. He flinched as he beheld its condition. A horrific burn disfigured the left half of the dragon's head, his eye swelled shut. His right wing ended in tatters and he had many deep scratches, blood disappearing in the hue of his crimson hide. Thorn let out a pitiful whimper.

Eragon sheathed his sword but held on to magic. As he approached Thorn, Arya called out for him to stop, but Eragon ignored her. Thorn watched him through one fiery eye, but did not move. _Why have you come?_

Thorn tried to raise his head, but Eragon forced him to remain in the position. He circled the dragon once, taking in the numerous injuries. The dragon would be slowed by them but in no way incapacitated if he chose to attack. Eragon felt an imposing presence push at his barriers and lowered them warily, ready to slam them back up at a moment's notice. _I am free. _The dragon's voice was deep and rumbled through his mind.

Eragon stared, he had not dared hope. _In the ancient language._

_I am free. _Thorn continued. _He has no more control over me._ His tail flicked angrily and smoke came from his nostrils. Eragon heard Arya call his name again. _A dragon should never be a slave. I want to fight. I want to taste his blood and his demon dragon's too._

The way the dragon spoke unnerved Eragon. He took a step beck involuntarily. _How could we trust you?_

_Let me tell you my story. _Thorn's mind brushed with Eragon's again and he couldn't help notice a wave of pain burning at the dragon. _As you know, I hatched for Murtagh inside Galbatorix's castle. The same day, I was made a nameslave of that bastard. I never knew anything else. Ever since he forced us to kill the golden ones, I have been beginning to rebel, but three nights ago I saw the king torturing the eldunari, not for any particular reason, but because he enjoys inflicting pain. _A loud growl came from Thorn's throat. _That was what convinced me to try and escape. My name changed when I found the will to flee, to fight. I had only ever been obedient. I was given no choice. I tried to break away, and my name changed. Galbatorix had a spell set on me that warned him when my name changed. Shruikan attacked me. That is how I came to be in this condition. The only reason he stopped pursuit was because he did not have Galbatorix with him and the shadow king fears to fight Saphira and me together. Let me fight. I will have blood for this._

Eragon felt uneasy as he thought about what the dragon had said. It worried him. _You didn't answer my question. How can we trust you? Would you bind yourself to another so soon? What reason do I have not to worry you will turn once my back is toward you._

_I… I will swear myself to you, but you alone. I trust you. You wanted to free us from his hand, not only I think for our strength. You are my rider's brother. _The dragon followed with a closely binding oath of fealty spoken in the ancient language.

Eragon put his hand on the dragon's quivering neck. _Let me heal you. _Eragon fought down his revulsion at the way the young dragon had been treated. Not only did he bear many fresh wounds, but his hide was riddled with many scars. Eragon did have to take some of the energy required for the massive healing from Aren, but the ring still held an amazing amount of energy. As he finished, he heard Arya.

"Eragon, what is going on?"

A slow smile spread over his face and for a minute he forgot his anxiety. "Thorn has joined us. He has broken free of Galbatorix and sworn himself to me." Thorn raised his head and snorted, drawing attention back to himself.

_There is one matter more. _He spoke to both Eragon and Arya now. _As I was leaving, I managed to steal this. _He opened his mouth to reveal a deep purple gem on his tongue. _Take it. He is the only eldunari Galbatorix has not bent to his will. _Eragon reached out and took the large eldunari in his hands and turned it over. _No one has been able to enter his mind. He is Vanilor._

**Don't forget to review, please! Tell me what needs to be fixed or what you liked. I am open to criticism****. Honestly. I have two brothers. I can take it. So, what did you think? My chapters should start to get longer from here. Up to now, the chapters were mainly setting up my cast of characters. Well, after the next one they should be longer.**_  
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	7. Prophecies

**A.N. Yes, its long, but bear with me. There will be action coming up, but unfortunately it is not in this chapter. Enjoy and please review.**

Arya walked up beside Eragon and trailed her fingers over the hard warm surface of the eldunari he held carefully in his hands. "Is he awake?"

Eragon reached out his mind toward the jewel he held in his hands and nodded. "His mind is guarded with walls such as I have never seen before. It would be impossible for me to even try to enter his mind." Eragon slipped the eldunari in his bag with a deep sigh and slung it around his shoulder. HE glanced back where Thorn was crouched on the ground, staring off into the horizon. The dragon's head flicked quickly to watch Eragon for a moment before turning back. "Wait here." Eragon approached the dragon, enduring his wary stare. _Thorn, will you tell me how Murtagh is?_

_Why?  
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_He is some of the little family I have left, and he was my friend as well. _Eragon tried to put as much assurance into his voice as possible._  
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Thorn blew a puff of smoke. Eragon recognized the expression as similar to one Saphira did. She made it when she was upset. _Galbatorix tortures him for my choice. I wanted to bring Murtagh with me, but he is bound too tightly to Galbatorix and he never really put effort towards changing his name, but then, neither did I. I suspect it is not something you can do consciously or do without an outside influence. I would never have left, but I intend to save him. _Thorn hid his head, pretending to clean his claws, another thing Saphira did. _You will help me help Murtagh? _Suddenly, Thorn's voice grew more frantic. _What if he orders Murtagh to attack or capture me? You won't force me to fight Murtagh, will you?_

_Relax, Thorn. I would never do such a thing. It you ever get in that situation, call me and I will help you capture Murtagh. As our prisoner, we could help him. Thorn, there is something you should see. _Eragon smiled. _Arya, bring him here._

Arya stepped forward and lifted the tiny dragon from his warm nest in her sling. Shooting a worried look at Thorn, she set the hatchling down and waited to see what they would do. Wyrda growled and scampered behind Arya's legs. He made several advances toward Thorn before astanding directly in front of the older dragon.

Thorn snorted in surprise and then slowly withdrew from the hatchling as if unsure what to make of it. He looked at Eragon. _I knew the egg had been stolen, but I did not know anything more. Galbatorix was very angry that night. It is good he has hatched for you, Arya, you will make a powerful rider. _He opened his wings and Eragon and Arya moved away. _I am going hunting and then I am going to sleep. If you trust me, I will fly you to the Varden tomorrow morning._

_We will consider it. _Thorn flapped off toward the trees.

Arya watched Wyrda stare after Thorn and then try to fly after him. The little dragon jumped and flapped his wings but to no avail. A quick glance shot at Eragon showed his eyes sparking with amusement. "It won't be long before he can fly. I was always amazed at how fast Saphira grew when she was in the Spine." A silence fell over them for a while. "We should contact Islanzadi and tell her the news."

Arya nodded and cast the spell herself on a pool of water drawn from the earth. "Draumr kopa." The water rippled and a silver haired elf came into view.

"Ah, atra du everinya ono varda, Arya Drottningu."

Switching to the ancient language, Arya finished the greeting and continued. "I would speak with Islanzadi."

"Of course, I will send for her immediately." It was near ten minutes before Islanzadi came before her mirror and looked at Arya and Eragon. Her expression was the smae as lways, serene and proud.

"I trust there is good reason for this. I was leading a meeting discussing our strategy for the winter. Now, Arya, Eragon, what is it?"

In response, Arya held out her right hand, palm facing out so that Islanzadi could see the silvery scar that now was there. "Nasuada managed to get the egg out of the castle. We went to retrieve it and he hatched for me." Arya called the green dragon over and he pawed once at the image of Islanzadi curiously before Arya pulled him away. "His name is Wyrda."

The queen was silent for a while before she responded. "I am proud to have you as my daughter." Eragon saw Arya hold her breath, waiting to see if she would say more. So she did care what her mother thought. No matter how much she denied it, she cared.. "I have waited long for this day, but I knew it would come." She saw the confused expression that Arya now wore and smiled. "Faolin told me he had a premonition that you would become the rider of a green dragon. He did not know how or when, but he was sure. For a while, I thought he was wrong –we believed you dead– but when you returned with Eragon, it was only a matter of time."

At the mention of Faolin, Arya's face lost all color and she looked at the dragon next to her. Without another word, Arya stood and sprinted off toward a lone copse of trees. Taking over the spell before she broke it off, Eragon stared after her in surprise and then looked at the queen. She had a faintly sad expression on her face, but she shook it off and spoke to Eragon. "Is this the extent of your message?"

"Not quite." Eragon smiled and drew the eldunari from his bag over the pool of water for her inspection. "Vanilor, he has resisted the king all these years."

Her eyebrows went up in a surprised arch and then she frowned at him. "How?" The one word was more like a command for him to explain himself that any question.

"Thorn, my queen. He has broken away from Galbatorix and joined us only today. He has sworn absolute fealty to me and wishes to fight the empire above all else."

"Momentous news indeed." A conflicted look came across her face before she banished it and serenity returned to her features. "What do you intend to have him do? We could use him here."

"No." Her eyes flashed and she was about to respond angrily when Eragon continued. "I will not have him used as some sort of pawn. That is all his life has been and I don't want him turning on us. Besides, I know you have not forgotten that it was Thorn and Murtagh who killed Oromis and Glaedr and the elves will likely never forget. I do not believe he would be entirely safe. At the Varden he will be mistrusted and disliked, but with the proper persuasion, I do not doubt he will at least be tolerated."

"I must concede to your argument." Her voice was quiet, but the tone made Eragon glad he was far beyond her reach. The cold anger was enough to disturb anyone.

"That is the news." Islanzadi simply stood and walked away without saying more. Eragon ended the spell and looked down at the little green dragon. "Should we go find your rider?" The hatchling cocked his head at Eragon and chirped. "Come on then." Eragon scooped up Wyrda in his arms and ran toward the trees. He walked as soon as he neared the edge and set Wyrda on the ground to follow. It was a long walk through the trees and he could not find her anywhere. With slight embarrassment, Eragon realized how he should have been looking. He felt Arya's presence at the same moment he saw her. Arya was crying, leaning against a tree.

Eragon walked over slowly, hesitating as he was unsure to how she would respond to his following her. "Arya?" Eragon sat beside her and she pulled her knees up against her chest. Eragon waited, hoping she would volunteer some comment, but she did not even look at him. "What is it, Arya? You can tell me." He spoke quietly, hoping he did not offend her by prying, but Arya looked at him through a veil of black hair and wiped tears from her eyes. For a long time she simply looked at him, but then she slowly nodded.

"You should know. It concerns you." Eragon froze and waited for her to continue. She had to fight tears again before continuing, and Eragon took her hand gently. Her eyes moved to their linked hands and stayed there as she began to speak. "I did not tell you the entirety of Faolin's vision, Eragon. He told me about seeing me among the dragons and following a leader that I presume was you, but it did not end there. My mother confirmed that he knew I was going to be a rider, and he told me he believed he was going to die the night before Durza's ambush. All of his predictions have come true so far." She paused and fell into silence, but to Eragon it seemed as if she were working herself up to something.

"He made one last prophecy, Eragon." He glanced up at her face, but she still wasn't looking at him. "He told me when we were still in Du Weldenvarden. He said that my life would be saved by the actions of a green dragon, but that in its action, the life of one I love will be lost."

She looked up into Eragon's eyes and saw shock as he comprehended what she was saying. Was she really admitting… that? And he was to die? Everything about Eragon's world spun around him as he tried to make sense of it. Eragon gave her hand a squeeze and closed his eyes, trying to think. He had to think. "Arya, is it true after all this time?" he had to be sure. She had hurt him too often.

Arya nodded, wiping tears from her eyes. "I won't let you die because of me, Eragon."

He forced a small smile. "I do not intend to die." She glared at him, but realized he was not teasing her. Then, Eragon did smile.

"What could possibly amuse you about this?"

"About Faolin's prophecy, nothing, but since you shared this secret with me, I will share one of my own with you. When Brom and I went through Teirm and stayed with Jeod, we were there for a while and one time I went exploring. Quite by chance, I stumbled upon a shop owned by Angela. I spoke with Solombum and Angela read my fortune for me. It was not some human nonsense but a true prediction. There were several parts to my future; she predicted Brom's death, Murtagh's betrayal, my love for you, and two other things. One was my lifespan, Arya. From the bones she saw it as extraordinarily long or infinite. Either Faolin or Angela's prediction will come true, but they both cannot. I intend to live." He tried to put confidence into his voice, but it came out hollow. If he were to die, what would become of Saphira? He didn't want to think about it.

She looked thoughtful, but worried. "What was the other part of your fortune?" Eragon turned away from her, releasing her hand. Arya stared before sighing and looking away. "I'm sorry, Eragon, that was personal."

He took a deep breath and glanced at her. "I suppose I could tell you. It's just that, it bothers me. I am destined to leave Alagaesia and never return."

"Oh." Arya did not speak for a minute. "I am sorry I never told you." Her voice was quiet and her eyes bore a serious look. "It's just, I'm confused. It has only been two years since Faolin died and…" She stopped, unable to continue with that thought and took a breath. "I never meant to hurt you."

"It's alright, Arya. Let's go back. Thorn is back from his hunting and I want to keep an eye on him until I am sure we can trust him." She accepted Eragon's hand to pull her to her feet and didn't release his hand as they walked back. Eragon felt more content than he had in a while.

**A.N. I know this was long and rambly (stupid computer… it's a word if I say it's a word) but I needed to settle some things before moving on. And yes, Arya admitted it, but they are not going to be suddenly thrown at each other as the perfect happy couple. That is not realistic at all. Anyway, please review me. Give me advice, comments, questions, or you favorite cookie recipe… just review. I appreciate any feedback. More is on the way!**

**P.S. More reviews is inspiration for me to write faster. Otherwise... A good book while sitting on the dock, looking out over the still lake in the beauty of a summer afternoon.  
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	8. Return to the Varden

**A.N. I feel that I should warn you before you read. This entire chapter was written well after midnight while I was sitting in my bed with a bag of lemon heads and playing my harmonica as I typed with one hand. Having said that, read at your own risk. ****Paolinifansimon****, you asked for a longer chapter and I have decided to try it out, but everyone must tell me what they think. Oh, and I would like to thank everyone who has been reviewing my story. You guys are the best. To everyone who reads, enjoy.**

Eragon woke the next morning feeling as if his heart was ten pounds lighter. He was a bit cold, as a light frost had coated everything in an icy blanket, but he had been hesitant to ask Thorn for his warmth and the dragon had not offered. A smile came over his face as he glanced over to where Arya was still asleep, cradling the infant dragon against herself. Nothing could ruin his mood, not even the sullen red dragon who had barely slept and kept blowing smoke and watching it dissipate into the air. Knowing it was still early, Eragon took Vanilor's eldunari from his bag and sat with it on his lap. For a while he admired the color and tried to imagine how magnificent the dragon must have looked when his body was alive. The heart-of-hearts was a deep wine-like purple, much like the sky on a clear night over the mountains. And judging from the size of the eldunari, he must have been quite a bit larger than even Glaedr.

Breaking his contemplation of things that were now irrelevant, Eragon pressed his mind against the seamless barriers of the dragon's consciousness. He felt no cracks or dents in the protection and marveled at what depth of concentration must be required to hold a shield that strong firm for near a hundred years. Absently, Eragon wondered what the dragon concentrated on that he could hold the shield. There were so many things he could learn from the dragon if it would only open its mind. With a sudden impulse, Eragon transferred a small portion of his energy to the dragon. Whether it opened its mind or not he could do that. Maybe if he slowly tried to build trust or curiosity? No, Galbatorix had tried to long that it would open up to Eragon. With regret, Eragon transferred the eldunari back into his bag, taking care to make sure it was safe.

A sudden sharp touch at his elbow startled him and he jumped and spun only to find Wyrda at his arm. "I suppose you are hungry?" Saphira had always been hungry when she had hatched. He glanced over to find Arya still asleep. The sun wasn't yet above the horizon and they would return to the Varden sooner than expected because of their improved means of transportation. Also, with the vanished risk of being attacked by Thorn and Murtagh they were relatively safe. It was extremely unlikely the king would stray from Uru'baen and soldiers were little threat to them. They had dealt with shades before. Wyrda chirped impatiently and Eragon pushed himself to his feet. "I'm coming."

Eragon had not even started searching when a small hare started from behind a bush. With his mind, Eragon paralyzed the hare and encouraged Wyrda. He needed little encouragement, however, and scrambled after the hare quickly. With a dragon's instinct, Wyrda dispatched the hare with a quick bite behind the neck and began to tear at the warm meat. Eragon smiled at the obvious pride the hatchling held over his kill and watched him eat. When he was finished, the dragon ran at Arya before Eragon could stop it and barreled into her stomach.

"What, oh." Arya sat up and smiled at the dragon. Then, she looked at Eragon. "He is trying to tell me something, but I have no idea what. Whatever he is trying to show me is confused, but he is very smug about something."

"He will be as vain as Saphira." Eragon laughed. "I let him kill his own meal while keeping it from fleeing. Are you ready to return to the Varden?"

"We should be on our way."

Eragon walked over to Thorn. Arya seemed intent not to mention what she had said the night before. She acted for all the world as if it had never happened, and Eragon knew better than to push her. Arya had not wished to tell him. She had feared his death and wanted to warn him. Eragon sighed; it was never easy with Arya. _Good morning, Thorn._

He snapped his teeth. _How could you say that? _He demanded. _My rider is under the control of Galbatorix, being tortured by the king and you say good morning?_

_I apologize; it was only a polite greeting. Are you ready to join the Varden?_

_I am ready to kill the king and rescue my rider, but for now, yes, I suppose the Varden is the first step. _He crouched slightly to ease their mounting and Eragon and Arya found themselves on the back of this unfamiliar dragon with no saddle to protect them from the hard sharp-edged scales. Rearranging the items in the small pack she wore, Arya slipped Wyrda inside, much to Eragon's amusement as its head came out from the top. Arya shrugged and held on.

Thorn spread his wings and leapt into the air, flapping powerfully to gain altitude. Eragon had to clutch the spike in front of him to keep from losing his balance. With the bulk of additional muscle, he lost the grace that Saphira had taking off and flying. Once he was high above the ground though, he began to glide, beating his wings only rarely to maintain their altitude. The flight to the Varden was made in silence, but for the occasional chirps and squeals of the hatchling as he grew bored.

It was almost high noon when the encampment of tents and soldiers that was the Varden came into view. Eragon cast about for Saphira, but to his dismay could not find her. As Thorn started to descent, there was suddenly movement above them and with a lour roar of anger, a blue dragon was quickly closing the distance between them, talons extended like a hunting eagle.

"Saphira, no!" Eragon yelled with both his mind and voice and their minds joined. He felt surprise and then panic as the dragon tried to cut off her attack. Thorn rolled to the side, nearly throwing his riders, and Saphira pulled off an aerial maneuver only one with her talent could have accomplished, folding a wing and tumbling over them, her spikes only inches from their heads, before leveling out and spiraling toward the ground. Thorn followed, but Eragon felt a sense of unease radiating from him.

As the dragon's landed on the ground, Eragon could not suppress his amusement at who sat on Saphira's back. Wearing a bright yellow and blue riding dress, Angela the herbalist was strapped into the saddle. Eragon dismounted and the others followed his example and moved over to the side, away from the somewhat swampy ground the dragons had landed in.

Saphira circled Thorn threateningly and he turned to watch her as she moved about. Then, without warning, Saphira struck Thorn with her head, using enough force to off balance the now larger dragon. She swung her head again with enough force to snap bones if Thorn hadn't leapt away.

Eragon ran out and placed his body between the two dragons. "Enough." He heard both Arya and Angela exclaim about the foolishness of stepping between the dragons, but he would not have them fight. _Saphira. _He sternly scolded his dragon within the confines of her own head. _You would do well not to injure the red one._

A violent torrent of her raw emotions hit him. Rage. Shock. Confusion. _Sorrow._ She turned her head toward the intruding rider and hissed angrily. _He killed Glaedr. They _murdered _our masters, Eragon. Will you let that go unpunished? _Her teeth snapped an inch from his head, but Eragon did not even flinch.

_I never intended to let their deaths go without vengeance, but will you punish the innocent? I intend for Galbatorix's head. Thorn was a nameslave, Saphira, and when that happened he was being possessed as well. _Eragon reached out and laid a comforting hand on her nose to find she was trembling. She bowed her head in acceptance and then turned to Thorn. He laid his head on the ground submissively and projected a wave of emotions at Eragon and Saphira. Guilt and regret mingled with a hidden desire to be accepted. Saphira reached over and lightly tapped his snout with hers.

_You are not to be blamed._ The two dragons still stared at each other, and everyone's eyes were fixed on them until a high-pitched chirp came from Arya's bag. Saphira and Angela stared as Arya smiled and released Wyrda from the bag. A slow smile spread across the herbalists face and her eyes flicked up at Arya and then back to the tiny dragon. Eragon felt surprise emanating from the bond he shared with Saphira and then it was replaced with a sense of approval and she hummed. Saphira laid her head down to better look at the hatchling and it walked over brazenly right to her nose. She blew a puff of smoke at him, but the dragon did not even flinch.

Then, without warning, the hatchling playfully attacked her nose. Suddenly she was trapped in a fury of needle-sharp claws and teeth, afraid to move for fear of harming the little one. All but Thorn began to laugh as Saphira entreated Arya to remove her dragon. Arya complied and the dragon settled down in her arms.

"Angela," Eragon realized he had been neglecting something while watching the dragons, "will you please contact Nasuada and tell her to come here. Don't tell her all the specifics, I want to surprise her."

Angela fell silent in concentration, but after a minute smiled. "She is coming. It took a bit to convince her that she would be safe without telling her the details. She stared curiously at Thorn who was deep in a private conversation with Saphira. Neither moved but for an occasional growl or to release a puff as smoke. "You know, I think I would like to know the details as well." Eragon observed that, throughout their exchange, Thorn was submissive and humble while Saphira dominant.

After a few minutes, Eragon caught sight of Nasuada riding out with twelve Nighthawks forming a guard around her. Eragon stepped through the group to greet her. "My lady." He gave a slight bow, smiling.

Her eyes never left the ruby dragon, but she dismissed her men to go and wait, trusting Eragon and Saphira. Grumbling about her safety, they left her reluctantly under her glare. "Do you mean to say…?" She trailed off, still staring at Thorn who to Eragon looked extremely nervous.

"Yes, Thorn has managed to break free of Galbatorix's control and he has sworn himself to me in the ancient language."

"And," she asked, a poorly hidden tone of excitement to her voice, "the egg is safe?"

Eragon grinned. "Even better." He chuckled at the confused expression which came over her face. He nodded to Arya and she set the emerald hatchling on the ground. "This is Wyrda."

Nasuada's eyes went wide. "Eragon, this is more than we ever hoped for. Today the Varden gains two dragons." Her eyes kept going between Thorn and the small hatchling.

"And, there is one thing more." She stared at him, motionless, and the look of anticipation on her face let Eragon glimpse, if only for a moment, that she too was young for the responsibilities that had been placed upon her shoulders. Ever since her father's death, she had put her youth away to serve. Eragon looked at Angela once, judging if he could speak in front of her. She met his eyes and raised her eyebrows. Eragon decided that if they couldn't trust Angela, the Varden would be in trouble already. "Thorn has managed to rescue an eldunari from Galbatorix, one he hasn't bent to his will."

A small gasp escaped Nasuada, and Saphira looked to Eragon in surprise. She hadn't heard this yet either. With his elven hearing, Eragon even heard a startled intake of breath from Angela. So she did know what they were, confirming once again Eragon's suspicion that Angela knew much more than she let on. Fumbling with the tie on his bag, Eragon opened it and retrieved the massive eldunari. Everyone stared, but Angela made a faint noise and began to mutter incomprehensibly to herself. "This is Vanilor. I have not yet spoken with him as his mind is armored with shields as I have never seen the likes of before, but with Saphira's help, I have some ideas that will convince him to speak with us. He does not yet know he is free."

"I think," Nasuada said, arms crossed and still a bit wide eyed, "that I would like to hear the entire story." Angela nodded.

Smiling, Eragon began to recount their tale, beginning with when they left the garden. He did, however, leave out the personal matters between Arya and himself. By the time he had finished, the sun was a bit lower in the sky and Eragon had become hungry. The insistent chirps of Wyrda that Arya was trying to stifle let him know that he was not the only one.

Nasuada nodded, thinking, and then looked at the group before her. "Eragon, Arya, you can take the rest of the day for yourselves. I am sure you would like to rest after your journey. I ask though, that Arya, before you sleep tonight you move your tent over near Eragon's. Until Wyrda can defend himself, I think it would be better that way. A dragon hatchling would be a prime target. Besides, with Thorn as well, I suppose that will become the place for dragons and dragon riders.

"As you wish." Eragon and Arya responded together and then glanced at each other.

"Good, tomorrow then." Nasuada went back to her waiting guards and they formed a guard about her again.

"Well, I am glad I was here. I have never liked receiving my information second hand." Angela smiled. "Interesting things always happen around you, but I have some business I need to attend to. Farewell." She waved as she set of at a leisurely walk not even towards the Varden.

Not wishing to give himself a headache, Eragon didn't try to understand the strange witch and instead turned to his companions. "Let's go and find something to eat, and for Wyrda too. Thorn, I think it would be better if you stay out of sight until Nasuada announces your allegiance to the Varden."

They mounted Saphira and she flew them back to the Varden. As Eragon relaxed, a sudden thought made him smile. _Angela? _He asked Saphira.

_I had to have a rider if I was to fight Thorn and Murtagh._

_But why Angela and not one of the elves?_

_It wouldn't have felt right._

Laughing quietly, Eragon left it at that. If Saphira wanted Angela to ride her when he and Arya were gone that was her business, not that it didn't amuse him greatly. And imagining the elves reaction to her choosing the herbalist, he would have enjoyed seeing that. When Eragon entered his tent, he saw a letter folded and sitting on top of his things. Curiously, he opened it as Arya watched.

_Eragon Shadeslayer, I thank you for helping secure the egg and most of all for saving my daughter's life. It seems the least we can do is relate to you our story and how it is that we came to be in possession of the last dragon egg. You and the elf, Arya, may come and speak with us whenever you wish and we will share it, but I have one request to make of you. Do not share our names with the Varden. The names we gave you were our real ones, but if you need to say anything, I am known as Deidre and my daughter as Elise. We look forward to speaking with you. Our tent is immediately next to that of Angela the herbalists. Alana_

Eragon handed the letter wordlessly to Arya and she read it and nodded. They would go and speak with these women. He had some questions for them.

**Is anyone curious? Please review me. Oh, and there will be more on Eragon and Arya's relationship coming up soon. As of now, neither wishes to speak first. And just to let you guys know I was more than a little disappointed I did not receive anyone's favorite cookie recipes. I was forced to search for one on the internet instead of using an already tested one, but don't worry, they were actually pretty good. Anyway, leave a review. I appreciate it.**

**WARNING:** If you do not care in any way, shape, or form about some random pithy (one of my favorite words) paragraph about my life, DO NOT READ. But if you have nothing better to do with your time, here is a perfect example of a typical day's living with my brother.

Let me enlighten you on a truth I feel everyone should know. Water is wet. And, no, I am not crazy. I just had a heated argument with my smart (not sarcastic) though lacking common sense older brother about whether water could, in fact, be wet. It took half an hour of continual bickering and a tremendously exasperated mother before we thought to look in a dictionary. So, from , the definition: 1. moistened, covered, or soaked with water or some other liquid (mildly useful, but inconclusive,) 2. in a liquid form or state (in your face, brother!) 3. characterized by the presence or use of water or other liquid (Game. Set. Match.) I don't know why I am telling you this, or even if anyone read my little rant about living with my brother, but it explains my mood as I wrote this. And, to anyone dense enough to believe water cannot be wet, reread this or look it up for yourself if you do not believe me.


	9. Sharing Stories

**A.N. A monster chapter compared to the previous ones, this chapter is for all who have reviewed.**

Despite the fact that Nasuada had given them the day off, Eragon knew that there was quite a bit of work to be done. He walked out to Saphira and leaned against her side. _You left me and I didn't get into trouble._

She snorted and turned her head to look at him. _You came close. Very close. What if Thorn would have attacked you instead?_

_But he didn't. _Grinning, Eragon pulled the two eldunari from his bag. He carefully set Glaedr's heart-of-hearts down on the ground and held Vanilor's up to Saphira. _The defenses around his mind are impenetrable, but we need to speak with him somehow. I have been transferring energy to him to try and build trust or curiosity, but it would take years most likely._

Eragon felt her reach out her mind to the eldunari and examine the defenses like he had. She reached forward her nose and tapped the eldunari, releasing a massive amount of energy that should have been impossible. _What did you do?_

_I'm not sure. I just know we need to speak with him._

Eragon reached out his mind and felt the barriers slowly lowered, but he felt they would be slammed up if he did anything to surprise the dragon. He waited for a minute and then lightly touched the mind of the dragon.

Eragon shifted to the ancient language so that the dragon would know he was telling the truth. _I am a rider and a friend. _Eragon spoke the same words as he had to Arya when she was in her self induced comatose state.

_Where am I? _The dragon's voice echoed in his head. The voice was deep and had a full tone.

Eragon could feel Saphira's excitement. _You a free. We are with the Varden._

_The Varden?_

Eragon realized then how long Vanilor had been in Galbatorix's possession. _We are at war with Galbatorix. How much do you know since the fall?_

_I was one of the first to fall to Galbatorix. I assume because I have been a prisoner that the Dragon Riders failed. Other than that, I know nothing._

_Yes. One rider of old survived, but he was killed not two weeks ago over Gil'ead where he was fighting with the elves. I will explain what has happened in the last hundred years. _Telling the history took nearly an hour. _There are three dragons now with the Varden and two riders, Saphira and I, Thorn, whose rider is a prisoner of Galbatorix, and Wyrda and Arya who are only new riders. Wyrda hatched only a day ago._

_And you will stand against when pairs centuries own failed. You are but hatchlings to the king. _Vanilor's voice was quiet.

_We will fight until the king falls. Good _will _triumph over evil._

_I have more experience in war and fighting other dragons than any who flew before the fall and my skill in the air is better than any dragon's._

_You believe this is possible?_

_We stood when it was only me and Saphira, but now two more dragons have joined. The elves have captured Gil'ead and the Varden has taken Feinster and if all goes well will have Belatona before the first snow. Our chances are better if you agree to help. Will you?_

_I have spent the last hundred years fighting my own battle with Galbatorix. If I was set free only to fall back under his control than all of that will have been for nothing. Yes, I will lend to you my strength, wisdom, and energy until the tyrant king is vanquished. _With that, barriers were raised around the dragon's mind, though not like before, and his thoughts were sealed off.

Disoriented from the long talk, Eragon opened his eyes and blinked several times at the sudden light. With a faint smile, he slipped the eldunari into his bag. A light noise came from behind him and he turned his head quickly to find Arya sitting and watching him with an expressionless mask. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough." She shrugged and Eragon noticed her dragon was sleeping, curled up against her thigh. "I assume you have managed to speak with Vanilor?"

"Yes. He has sworn himself to me until Galbatorix is deposed."

She looked at Wyrda. "That is the reason I have come, Eragon. You did not ask me, but I know it is required. You are the leader of the riders and I am a rider."

"I trust you Arya. It is not necessary."

He shifted under the icy glare he received. "It is your duty as well as mine. Do not forget obligation because of feelings." Before he could protest, Arya bound herself to him in the ancient language. "Wyrda will swear as well when he is older." She glanced at the dragon. "Did Saphira sleep so much?"

"I honestly have no idea." Arya shot him a look. "I visited her often, but for the most part she grew up alone in the Spine. I must have told you about the beginning." She shook her head. "Really? I suppose we have the time."

Eragon began with a short background of his village and family and then went on to hunting and Saphira's egg appearing. Arya had heard about that part of the story, but not after. He recounted trying to sell the egg and how it hadn't hatched for a while. About not realizing he was a rider until she had grown. About speaking with Brom and her choosing her name. About the first flight into the Spine. Eragon recounted it all and she listened without interrupting. He spoke until he reached Gil'ead and then stopped. She knew from there what had happened.

Arya favored him with a smile. "You are as talented a storyteller as your father was." Eragon smiled back. "I suppose if you want, I could tell you something of my past, of my childhood."

"I would enjoy that." Eragon leaned forward. Arya rarely offered any insight into her past, and he relished the few pieces he did know as they helped him to understand her better. He saw a quick shiver pass over her. "If you would like, you can come and sit against Saphira. She is warm and blocks the wind."

Arya looked at him and then nodded, scooping Wyrda up into her arms and sitting beside Eragon against his dragon. Saphira opened one cerulean eye and stared at her rider. _Is that what I am, some couch for you to make yourself all warm and comfortable against?_

_Yes. _Saphira was about to respond, but just snorted instead and waited to see what Arya had to stay.

"Actually, I think it would be better if I showed you." Arya's musical presence entered his mind and he allowed her to impose a memory upon his senses.

_A tall striking elf gazed down on her for a moment before picking her up and swinging her around. His deeper laugh mixed with the young elf's high laugh that rang out like wind chimes. After a few minutes he set her down and knelt so that he could easier look her in the eye._

"_Arya, how would you like me to begin teaching you the sword?"_

"_Mother said I was too young." A note of mischievous delight came into her voice. "We can't tell her." The elf child said seriously._

"_Of course not, it will be our secret." Her father stood and took her by the hand, finding a thin blade light enough for her small form. Once he had gathered it, they snuck out into the gardens of Tialdari Hall. Guarding the sharp edges with magic, he instructed his daughter on how to hold the sword and gently moved her fingers until they were in the right position on the hilt. Stepping back, he beckoned with a smile on his face._

_With a quick grace, Arya leapt at him, swinging her sword in a large arc that left her completely unprotected. Her father stopped her attack with a block and twirled the sword to tap her as lightly as a butterfly on her chest._

"_Try again. Not so wide this time. Try," he demonstrated, "try that." The girl laughed and mimicked her father with exaggerated slowness. He blocked it and smiled. "Good, now try and touch me." She came at him with vicious determination, but could never come close to marking him. Finally, her father knocked the small blade from her hands._

_Without losing a moment, the girl let out another songbird- like laugh and tackled her father. He fell and the two wrestled for a while until another walked into the garden. The father and daughter froze, but could not stop their laughter._

_Islanzadi raised her eyebrows with a slight smile. "I thought I would find you two troublemakers here. And, what's this?" She picked up the small sword and shook her head in mock disapproval. "Why does this not surprise me?"_

_Her father stood and pulled Arya to her feet. He bore an impudent smile while his daughter hid slightly from her mother from behind him. Both of their white elven tunics had grass stains. "She shows promise."_

_Her mother only shook her head again. "Come and change. We must go into the city and I will not be seen with you if you insist on coming wearing those." Despite her stern expression, amusement had crept into her voice and her eyes glimmered with laughter. Arya and her father followed with foolish grins on their faces._

The memory ended and Eragon saw Arya was smiling. He too smiled. "Thank you for sharing that with me."

She looked at him. "You know so little about me. I have lived over a hundred years and you not a fifth of that time." She sighed. "I was happy then. That memory is from a month before he went off to fight. I never saw him again."

Eragon didn't know what to say so he fell silent and leaned his head back against Saphira's hard scales. She didn't speak either, but gazed down at the emerald dragon. After a moment, she spoke again. "I never guessed at how deep a riders bond is with their dragon. I was always amazed how closely you and Saphira knew each other and how you had no secrets, but I never imagined it like this, and I know he is only a hatchling and it will only deepen as he grows."

"It is a wonderful thing," Eragon agreed, "to have someone who understands you perfectly and loves you unconditionally and to feel the same way in return. Saphira and I have had our disagreements, but they could never change how we felt about one another." He too looked at the dragon. "I will begin to teach you tomorrow. You are already my equal in magic and sword fighting, but there are secrets the riders kept which I will teach to you. And there are pieces of the history of dragons known to none but the riders. For much we must wait until Wyrda is larger, but we will start. He really will be a handsome dragon. The hue of his scales is marvelous."

As if realizing he was the object of scrutiny and discussion, Wyrda opened his jade eyes and let out a loud squeak. Arya smiled and Eragon laughed. "Just wait until he starts speaking."

"Eragon, I know Nasuada said we could have the day to ourselves, but I wish to go to Nasuada's strategy meeting and you should too. It would be better for you to speak for Thorn and decide what he will do if anything in this battle."

"I was thinking much the same thing. Let's go so we can get there before it starts." Eragon looked at Wyrda. "Saphira, did you want to go?"

_As much as I would enjoy watching a group of two-legs having a contest to see who can yell the loudest, I will take Nasuada's offer of a day off._

_I thought so. Will you keep Wyrda safe while we go?_

_Oh, I see. I am a couch and a babysitter._

_I am glad you understand. _Again Saphira did not deign to respond to his comment and instead blew a puff of smoke at him to make him cough but he held his breath. _I know you too well. _He said, laughing.

_Really? _She bared her teeth in a draconic smile and Eragon felt his feet knocked out from underneath him and landed on the ground. Hard. _Don't complain. You deserved it, but yes, I will watch the hatchling._

_Thank you. _Eragon stood and brushed himself off. Arya was having a hard time of stifling her laughter.

"I suppose I have this to look forward to as well?" She asked.

"Only if Wyrda is as misbehaved as Saphira. She tends to show a tremendous lack of self-discipline sometimes."

Saphira snorted and pushed him lightly with her nose. _Go to your meeting. _

They complied and began walking to Nasuada's pavilion. When they entered, a few minutes early, Nasuada looked over in surprise. "You didn't have to come. I said you could relax."

"We spent earlier relaxing, but we decided with Belatona so close we should come and help plan."

"I appreciate that. The others will be arriving shortly. Please take a seat." Eragon and Arya sat beside each other and waited until the council and her other advisors joined them. As soon as everyone was there, Nasuada stood and addressed the group. "Our battle plan has changed greatly today with the addition of another dragon. We will approach from the west with a large group of soldiers and initiate the fight. Saphira and Eragon will be with us and aid in the fighting along with the elves. I intend to draw most of the fighting to us over there, and while the soldiers are otherwise occupied, another group of soldiers will attack from the north with Thorn. If all goes as planned, it should cause chaos among those in Belatona, perhaps enough to break past the wall in one of the sides. We wish to minimize casualties on both sides, but especially on ours. Galbatorix has a huge pool to draw from, but our numbers are growing fewer every battle." She sat down and waited with her hands folded on the table.

A middle aged man on the council who had a gray beard and was balding was the first to speak. "We cannot trust the red dragon. He may have some sort of subterfuge planned against us. Have you not forgotten that he has fought Eragon before?"

Nasuada glanced at Eragon and he nodded. "My lady," he acknowledged Nasuada with a slight nod and then turned to the man. "I can speak for Thorn. He will fight with us, and he is to be trusted. His allegiance has shifted and he has sworn himself to me."

"But if he changed sides once, what makes you sure he can't turn on us?" It was a woman who spoke this time.

"I ask you to trust me in this matter. Who among you has actually spoken directly with a dragon?" He glanced at the people in the room and they all quieted. A small smile lighted Nasuada's face. "Good. I thought so. Now, dragons are what I know, and as the leader of the riders, I say he can be trusted. Though," he glanced at Nasuada, "I would like to propose some minor changes to the plan."

"Go ahead."

"Six of the elves will go with Thorn, and Arya will ride him into battle. He cannot be unprotected when he goes into the fight."

Arya looked at Eragon. "I do not know how to fight from dragonback and I do not know if Thorn would allow me to ride him. It is you he trusts."

"He will let you ride him in battle. I can convince him, and as for not knowing what to do, we have several more days before we attack Belatona. I will teach you." She nodded, but still looked unsure. He gave her a small smile to reassure her and turned back to Nasuada. "If he is not protected as Saphira is, I will not have him fight."

"I agree with the change. Jörmundur?" Nasuada looked to the man.

"I don't see anything wrong with that and I agree that the dragon should be protected. We have to guard our advantages."

"Is there anything more?" A slight argument started over whether the second group attack from the north or south, but after ten minutes of bickering it was decided that Nasuada had been right in the beginning and the meeting was adjourned. Everyne left but Eragon and Arya. Nasuada smiled. "I am glad you came. Without you, I wouldn't have been able to defend Thorn so well. You sound very sure you can trust him."

Eragon nodded. "Yes." His voice did not show the confidence he had spoken earlier. "We can trust that he will fight, but I am still keeping a close eye on him. He will not betray us, but there is something distorted in the way he thinks. I think he may actually enjoy fighting and killing. I will work to break him of the things Galbatorix trained into him. There is one other thing. I have spoken with Vanilor and he too is pledged to me."

She smiled and then looked at Arya. "You have been quiet."

"Eragon said all that was needed."

"Relax for the rest of the evening. You deserve it."

"Thank you." Eragon stood and they walked out of the tent. Eragon glanced at Arya. "There is something I want to do if you would like to come with." She looked at him curiously. "We should go speak to the women who stole Wyrda's egg. I would like to know how they managed that."

"I would too."

Eragon and Arya entered the two women's tent to find only the younger daughter inside, sleeping and still pale. She didn't look to have completely recovered from the shock of her injury. The young woman woke up upon their entrance and sat on the edge of the narrow cot. "Mother said to be expecting you." She smiled. "Let's not talk here. We do not wish anyone to hear our story by accident; it would prove unfortunate to me and my mother."

"She mentioned much the same thing in her letter. What do you mean by that?"

A sad look came over her face. "You will soon understand." She stood and, steadying herself, walked from the tent. "I just contacted my mother. She will meet us a bit outside the Varden. There Saphira and Arya's dragon may join us if they wish." Eragon and Arya's eyes met briefly. So the girl could seek out with her mind. Was she a spellcaster? Eragon wondered, but didn't comment as they followed her. Vea walked over to a small hill where her mother waited and walked up. Alana smiled at her daughter and then at the two people following her.

A minute later, Eragon heard the flapping of wings and Saphira arrived, carrying the hatchling in her mouth. She set Wyrda down and he went to stand by Arya's feet. "Now, how did you get Wyrda's egg?"

Alana glanced at Vea and began. "You will only understand if I tell you about my life beginning twenty-two years ago." She took a deep breath. "I lived in Uru'baen, the daughter of a rich lord and I was then considered to be a great beauty. I had a small talent with magic, but nothing special. It was my seventeenth birthday when my family held a ball and Galbatorix attended. I had seen him on several occasions before, but I had never spoken to him. That night, he asked to speak with me, alone. I complied; one does not turn down that supposed honor. When we were alone, he overwhelmed my mind and searched my memories to discover my true name. It took him not five minutes and he forced me to make oaths to him, oaths that allowed him to control me. That night, he forced me to become his mistress." She paused and Eragon felt a sense of horror coming over him. That was not any better than rape. He saw the disgust on Arya's face as well and waited.

"He forced me to come every few nights to the castle. I had no choice in the matter and obeyed. My family knew of it, but was too afraid to do anything to upset the king, so I was abandoned to him. For three years, nothing changed except that I was expected every night. I hated him for what he made me into and tried many times to run, but he knew my true name and had set an oath on me that forced me to return. Neither could I kill myself. It was after three years that I became pregnant with his child. When that happened, he made me move into the castle. I worried for the child and what was to become of it.

"Nine months passed and I gave birth to Vea while he had gone to pay a visit to Gil'ead. My child had been born strong and healthy, but the same day a servant had given birth to a child which died within the hour. We switched children, she took Vea and I took the infant that had died in birthing. I worried he would ask questions and discover the switch, but he had no real interest in the child and he pretended it had never even happened. The servant who had taken Vea was dismissed from his service as the servants with children always were because they never completed as much work.

"My servitude to Galbatorix continued and a couple years later, I had become pregnant again. That time, there were complications and the child died before it was born. Also, in what I now see as the most fortunate event in my life, I became ill and nearly died. As a result of the sickness, I lost quite a bit of weight and did not recover quickly. I was not old, but I had grown a few years older, and Galbatorix grew tired of me. I was dismissed from his service and told to leave Uru'baen. Still bound as a nameslave, I left Uru'baen and eventually found myself on the streets of Teirm, begging for food and without a place to sleep. Six more years passed on the streets of Teirm and I found myself wanting nothing more than to find my daughter.

"I found myself able to return to Uru'baen despite the oath he had forced from me. My true name had been altered enough that my servitude had ended. I talked with many people and discovered several things. First, that the king had taken another girl, younger than I had been, to his bed, and second, my daughter was in Surda.

"I was finally reunited with my daughter when she was fifteen years old. I told her my story and she, already being a powerful magician and adept with a sword, agreed to help me get revenge. The first opportunity came and passed while we were still planning what to do, and the next did not come for years. That was only weeks ago and we became aware of it through Angela. I don't know how she knew.

"Galbatorix flew to Dras'leona and we managed to sneak into the castle as servants through an small entrance used only by the servants. We were seen multiple times, but no one wished to become involved. We found the vault with the egg easily, but it was guarded by the red rider.

"We thought ourselves lost, but he stepped aside and gave the ghost of a smile. 'My orders are to protect the egg and to make sure nobody steals it. To carry out these orders with my life. The way I see it, you are not a danger to the egg and it is not really stealing if I let you take it.' Not believing our luck, we took the egg and the alarm was not raised until Galbatorix returned the next day, by which time we were well out of the city. We spent our time hiding and working our way toward the Varden, but became trapped in Melian for fear of being discovered. You rescued us and now we are here."

Eragon stared at her for a minute and then glanced at Arya. They had no reason to doubt her, but there was always the chance of things not adding up. "The entire story is the truth." Vea spoke as if she had known what he was thinking. "If you to try to harm my mother of I for our relation to the king, I will fight you. I know you would win, but that does not mean I could not get a lucky shot on you or one of your friends before you killed me."

Eragon stared at her for a moment before responding. "Who your father is does not change anything. Murtagh is the son of Morzan and is my friend and half-brother, though he is under Galbatorix's control. You have nothing to fear from me. I will not reveal your identities and I am extremely grateful that you managed to steal the egg."

She smiled. "In that case, I look forward to seeing you around the Varden. We will be fighting alongside Angela in Belatona."

Eragon nodded and then looked at the sun, low in the sky, but not quite dark. He glanced at Arya. "We'll go and move your stuff next to where Saphira and I sleep. Then I wish to check on Thorn. It would be better if I don't leave him alone." Eragon felt the knot of worry growing in him as he thought. They would be attempting to seize Belatona. In every battle there was a chance of his friends' injuries or death. He didn't worry over his own safety, but that of the ones he loved.

**Well, there it is a completely fluffy filler chapter that added nothing to the plot but was enjoyable to write. I apologize about Vea and Alana's story. I wrote them in earlier figuring I could find some sort of story, but this is all I could come up with. But I did enjoy myself with Arya. So, what did you guys think? Is it good, bad, too long, boring? I really am not upset if you did not like it. And if anyone has advice or ideas that they think would help this story, please share. This one is for all who have reviewed.**


	10. Belatona

**A.N. As this is the first real battle/action scene I have written, please do not judge me too harshly by it. I almost waited another day or two to put this up despite the fact that it was finished because of how few people reviewed the last chapter in comparison to those who read it, but I decided to give you all another chance. ****Another longer one. Its getting easier. (: ****Anyway, here is Belatona.**

The Varden slipped silently through the dark. It was the blackest part of the night before dawn. The quiet was broken only by the clink of armor and the occasional braying of a horse. They were going to attack before the sun to try and spare the Varden's men from the archers. Eragon waited with a growing sense of dread; he knew he would kill again today. _Eragon, we are in place._

_Bide your time and keep the men quiet. We need to draw them to us first. _Eragon took a deep breath. _I am going to attack._

_Eragon. _Arya's voice halted and it seemed as if she hadn't planned what she was going to say. _Stay safe. For my sake. _Her words reminded him as before his first battle he had spoken the same to her.

_And you as well. _Saphira let out an echoing roar and launched into the air. Suddenly there was a clamor of voices and weapons and the army moved toward the city. Saphira glided over the city like a giant bat, keeping well out of range of the archers who had already began to shoot at the advancing men. _Shall we take care of them?_

He had barely spoken when Saphira cut down through the night and swept toward the archers. There were screams and many faltered as she came back for a closer pass. Unseen until it was too late; Saphira extended her back leg and knocked the men from the wall as she flew by, sending them plummeting over twenty feet to serious injury or death. She roared again and circled back to the outside of the gate.

As she landed, Eragon leapt to the ground and, as he had in Feinster, lit Brisingr to cut the gate. As Saphira forced the gate with her head, bugles sounded throughout the city and men came running, woken from their sleep, they grabbed their weapons and armor. Eragon and Saphira retreated, drawing the men out of the city and toward the Varden. In the chaos of the night, none of the enemy soldiers questioned why the rider they were fighting had opened the gate. They simply attacked.

The elves gathered around him and Saphira with blades drawn. Eragon heard the Varden thundering from behind him like a stampede of horses. They met the empire with a tremendous clatter and the sounds of battle began. Steel on steel. Yelling. The clink of armor. Screams from the mouths of dying men. He tried to shut it out as his sword ended the life of yet another man. Brisingr pierced a man's chest and Eragon turned to the next, but then he felt a sudden drain on his energy from his wards. He spun to find the man he had stabbed through the chest had came after him.

_Barzul! _Eragon exclaimed to Saphira. _There are some of the painless ones. _He decapitated the man and warned Arya for when she came. He was forced to reduce his wards as they had already drained much of his strength. Leaping onto Saphira's back, he surveyed the battle from the air. He had brought. Two-thirds of the Varden's fighting men and Arya was left with the remaining third. Roran and his men would fight with her. The sun would rise within the hour, Eragon realized with a start. The element of surprise was necessary to their plan. _Arya, it is time. _He felt her acknowledgement of his announcement and in a few minutes Eragon began to hear shouts of dismay and fear from within the city.

Allowing himself a faint smile that all was going according to plan, he asked Saphira to return to the battle. Blodhgarm approached. "How goes the battle, Shadeslayer?" The elf had a long but shallow cut from his shoulder to his elbow, staining his blue coat with a dark patch of red. He had several other small cuts, but he looked fine for being in the middle of a battle.

"They are confused. We are outnumbered currently here, but the empire's soldiers are now moving back into the city instead of out." There was a sudden pressure on Eragon's mind and he searched to find who was responsible. He gasped as his defenses were entirely smashed, incapacitating him.

_It would be much easier if you simply allowed my entrance into your mind. _Relief flooded Eragon as he recognized the voice of the ancient dragon. _You are tiring, and whether he shows it or not, the elf in front of you barely has the energy to stand, let alone fight. Take my energy; transfer some to him as well._

Suddenly, Eragon was released and he felt himself and Saphira flooded with energy. Only then did he realize the elves surrounding him, fighting to keep a flood of soldiers who had closed in when Eragon and Saphira had stopped fighting. "Shadeslayer! Are you alright?" Blodhgarm asked anxiously. "What happened? Were you attacked?"

"Don't worry about it. We are fine." He grabbed Blodhgarm's arm and healed the cut as he transferred a decent amount of energy into the elf. "Don't argue." Eragon said as he rejoined the fight. Saphira let out a blistering inferno of flame that baked men in their armor. One kept coming, oblivious to the fact that half his face was seared by the heat and that his body was in flames. Eragon beheaded him and moved on. As they fought their way toward the gate, Eragon hunted down a spellcaster in the enemy lines who was injuring the Varden through magic fire that burned everything it touched and spread quickly.

The Varden was panicking and running from the growing flames. A well armored mind in the soldiers stood out and Eragon fought to gain dominance without any success. The man was either talented or extremely well trained. Finally, Eragon had an idea, watching the fire as it worked its way through the ranks of men. _Vanilor, I need your help._

_Yes, hatchling?_

_There is a spellcaster wreaking havoc among the men of the Varden and I cannot break into his mind to kill him. You beat me so easily…_

_I will handle it. _From his mind touching the man's, Eragon felt the walls fold in on themselves and felt the man's panic. _Do whatever you had planned. It is done._

Eragon examined the man's mind quickly. He was a sorcerer, not a magician as he had assumed. Eragon slew him quickly with a whisper of magic and then found the minds of the men the man had been protecting. He spoke another word and near three hundred men fell instantly to the ground, dead. He had been protecting that many? There was a cheer raised from the men fighting in the vicinity.

The sun had risen enough to cast a small amount of light on the battle. Thousands lay dead and dying on the ground. Others joined them as they fell to cold steel. They had finally fought their way back to the gate and poured through the walls to continue the fighting on the streets. He reached out for Arya and waited for her to relax her defenses. _We are inside the city here. How does the battle go for you?_

_I could not say who currently has the upper hand. We could use help._

_Saphira and I will join you. The streets are too narrow for Saphira to easily fight in. I'll bring Blodhgarm and Iliade with me as well. _Eragon summoned the elves he had decided to bring and They flew over the city. The Varden's men looked to be doing well. They had penetrated beyond the outer ring of buildings and were working towards the castle in the center.

As they neared the other part of the Varden's army, Eragon's sharp elven eyes spotted a raven haired elf fighting beside a ruby dragon. Saphira roared and landed beside them, crushing several men with her landing. At seeing two dragons, the men who had been attacking Arya and Thorn retreated. "Arya, you're injured." Eragon rushed to her side. She was fighting with her left hand as her right shoulder had been pierced. Blood had seeped down her side.

"I don't have the energy, Eragon, and you shouldn't weaken yourself."

"Waise hael." Eragon placed the palm with the Gedwey Ignasia over the wound and felt the drain on his strength as the healing drew energy from him. "I am better off. Vanilor gave us a great amount of energy earlier. What if there are magic users inside the city? You need to be able to fight them. If you were to die…" Eragon cut off. "It would be a disaster."

Eragon killed one of the painless men who was not afraid to approach two elves and two dragons. Thorn and Saphira continued to kill countless men between the two. "I appreciate the concern, but as an elf's death is a tragedy, I would hardly consider it a disaster."

"But what of the death of a rider? You are no longer only an elf Arya; I was speaking for Wyrda."

Instead of replying, Arya ran to fight beside Thorn again. The dragon had several cuts, but nothing requiring healing. There was one wound on Saphira's tail that was deep, but it could be dealt with later. Joining his mind with Saphira's, they let their minds meld until they fought as one, unable to distinguish between their own minds or bodies. The pair left a wake of death, and the empire's soldiers began to retreat to the city.

The second group of the Varden's soldiers reached the open gate and began to fight their way into the city. Mounting the dragons, the riders flew to the castle where the Varden was breaking itself against the walls. Saphira killed the men on the wall as Thorn burned the wooden gate preventing the soldiers' entry. With five of the elven spellcasters who had arrived at the castle, Eragon cast a spell to kill the men guarding the entry after overcoming the magician protecting them and entered the castle alongside Arya.

"Nasuada learned from Jeod where Lord Bradburn is most likely to hide. Come on." Eragon grabbed her hand and took off at a sprint, practically dragging the exhausted elf behind him. She yanked her hand from his and followed. All the people they met in the corridors took off down the next hall away from them except for one guard which Eragon killed by magic without breaking stride. Eragon stopped suddenly in front of a wooden door that looked like it belonged to a storage closet and Arya collided with him. Off balanced, Eragon fell and Arya smirked.

"You probably deserved that."

He took her offered hand despite the blood that stained it. Anyone who saw either of them or the other elves that had finally caught up, grumbling, would know they had come from a war. Their clothes were covered in gore and numerous small cuts covered their bodies. Eragon tried to push open the door but found it stuck. Using all his strength, Eragon kicked in the door. Behind it was a dark passageway. Arya made a light and they walked forward slowly. "Just the two of us first." He said to the elves who immediately began to protest. "I will call you if we need help or when I want you to come. It is best if we keep some reserve."

Eragon took a step into the darkness and Arya followed, her light dying suddenly, sputtering before completely fading. "What happened, Arya?"

She looked confused. "I don't know. I didn't try to end the spell. And I can't touch magic." Her voice grew slightly panicked."

Eragon frowned and tried to make a light. "I can't either, Arya. It's something about this hallway I think. Maybe some spell I do not know or an ancient piece of magic no one can explain. It doesn't change a thing. We are competent enough with our swords." As he spoke, an idea suddenly sprang to his head. He drew his sword. "Brisingr." He whispered and the sword lit with tongues of blue fire. He held it up and they could see the tunnel went on for a long ways.

"How is it that you can still use Brisingr?"

"I' not sure, but I have come to suspect my sword is no ordinary magic. This confirms it." He frowned. "Let's keep moving; this feels too much like Helgrind." The sword only lit ten feet in front of them, but beyond that everything was black. Eragon trailed his fingers across the wall. It was cool hard stone, the same as the rest of the castle.

A familiar sound reached his ears and he flung an arm wide, knocking Arya to the wall even as he flattened himself against it, killing the energy to Brisingr. Arya was gasping. He took her hand in his. "How badly are you hurt?"

"A scratch," she replied, whispering, "across my forehead." She clung to his hand. "That would have killed me, Eragon."

"Let's keep moving. We can heal you when we can use magic again." Eragon began to move quietly forward, zigzagging across the hall to try and prevent giving away their location to the attacker. Arya still hadn't released his hand. She was scared. Several months ago he wouldn't have believed it possible, but now he realized the truth. She became afraid as well. She simply hid it better than others. He was scared too at the moment. What if one of them suffered a worse injury? What if the enemy could still use magic here? The 'what ifs' threatened to drive him into panic. Ironically, it was Arya's nervous grip on his hand that kept him grounded.

Suddenly, Eragon saw a narrow strip of light barely visible coming from beneath a door at the end of the hall. They stepped forward quickly to the door and drew their swords. Even as they reached for it, the door opened and three men spilled into the passageway, each carrying a thin, short sword in their hand. Eragon lunged for the nearest with all of his speed and yet the man dodged him. It was all he could do to prevent himself being run through by one of the other men's swords. He bent back to avoid another and it grazed his arm. Without magic, there were no wards to protect him.

Arya yelled suddenly and as the man he was fighting half turned, Eragon saw her strategy and smiled. His sword slipped into the distracted man's ribcage and he fell to the ground, limp and bleeding. By the light of Brisingr, Eragon saw a faint smile come over her face. She had marked her opponent, a short wiry women who held the weapon as if she had been born holding it. Finally, her sword cut through an opening in her rival's guard and took off her head. Arya turned to see Eragon dispatch the remaining attacked and they pushed open the door.

A man was sitting in a chair in the corner. His eyes were worried and he stared at Eragon and Arya in shock. There was no doubt in Eragon's mind that those three had been his best. Eragon stepped into the small room and walk toward the man he assumed was Lord Bradburn.

"Eragon!" Arya's voice sounded at the same moment he felt her crash into him. Pain shot through him and he fell to the ground, senseless. Arya had managed to prevent the sword from finding his heart, but his breath was already weakening. She quickly killed the man who had attacked Eragon and then knelt beside her friend. "Eragon." She touched his cheek. "Waise hael." She placed her hand over the wound in his chest, but nothing happened. It was then she noticed the blisters along his wound. Seithr oil. But it hadn't been on the arrow that had grazed her forehead.

His breath was fading. Using all of her strength, Arya lifted Eragon and began to walk back down the dark hallway. "Arya?" Eragon's voice was weak and full of deep pain.

"You are not going to die, Eragon. I swear it."

"I believe you." She forced herself to walk faster despite the burning muscles and feeling that she was about to throw up or faint. Sheer determination kept her putting one foot in front of the other. Was he breathing? After what seemed like an eternity, she reached the light of the hallway. For a minute, Arya stared dumbly into the faces of Eragon's guards, and then, even as they rushed to him, she collapsed.

**Cliffhanger.**

**Review people, I need to know. I have no idea what to think of this chapter, Does the battle make sense? I wasn't sure how to go about it. And one more thing, will someone tell me how to edit earlier chapters? I wish to edit some grammar and style points, but I am unsure how. Thank you for reading my story! Don't forget to click the button, even just to say hello. I appreciate constructive criticism, but I will take anything.**


	11. Waking Up

**A.N. Warning: complete filler. That's really all I have to say besides that Arya POV scares me. But really, thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter (7). I will try to cover the questions in the next chapter. And to clear it up, Vanilor gave them energy as Glaedr is still comatose. I have not forgotten about Wyrda, he is simply too young to fight. Enjoy!**

Arya POV

Arya woke, blinking her eyes several times, trying to clear her head. Had she… fainted? Yes. It all came back in a burst. Eragon! Arya sprang up and ran to where the group of elves was gathered around his body. She watched, wishing she had the energy to help him. He would not die, he couldn't. She needed him. Suddenly, the elves ceased their spell and leaned back, exhausted. "How is he?" Arya cursed herself. Her voice trembled and she could barely speak above a whisper.

Blodhgarm glanced over. "You have awakened. I fear we cannot do enough, Arya. Even with our efforts, he is dying."

Arya knelt beside Eragon and he moaned quietly. "Slytha." Arya could not stand seeing him in such pain. She wished to take his hand or hold him, but was painfully aware of the elves watching her.

_Arya! _Saphira's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. _What happened? I couldn't feel either of you and then suddenly pain, excruciating pain. He cannot die. _Her mind was laced with panic and the mighty dragon did not bother to hide her emotions. Terror and anxiety that did not belong to her threatened to overwhelm Arya. _Arya, help him._

Arya suddenly had an idea. Despite the elves protests, Arya lifted Eragon and forced her wearied body to run to the nearest balcony. _Saphira. Come here. We need to take him to Angela._ In moments, the magnificent sapphire dragon slammed into the wall beside the balcony where Arya stood, holding on with her forepaws through a window. She arched her neck and took Eragon from Arya's arms as gently as if she were picking up an infant.

_Get on. _With the elves again shouting protests, Arya climbed onto the rail of the balcony, leaping toward the dragon. She nearly fell to her death before her hand caught a leather strap on Saphira's saddle. Arya hauled herself up into the saddle and tied herself in. Saphira placed Eragon in her arms and launched into the air. She felt Saphira contact Thorn and tell him to find Angela and bring her to her tent as quickly as possible. As they flew off, Arya contacted Blodhgarm and told him to get Lord Bradburn. Eragon's sacrifice was not going to be made in vain.

Arya hugged the dying rider against her chest and laid her cheek against his soft brown hair. A crystal tear fell from her eye and rolled down her cheek, landing on Eragon's arm. She stared at it. She was not going to cry. She was Arya. But at the sight of the broken rider, she found it difficult to hold back. Saphira landed and crouched on the ground. Arya slid off as gently as possible and looked at the sky. The red dragon was already flying towards them. Thorn landed and Angela leapt off gracefully. She rushed over and looked at Eragon for a long moment, her expression turning grim immediately. She beckoned Arya to follow and instructed her to lay him on the cot.

Arya complied and then looked at Angela for further instructions. "Now you may leave, Arya. I see that you have no energy to spare for the healing."

She looked to Eragon's unconscious form and then back to the herbalist, unable to stop the tears from reaching her eyes. "Please, let me stay. I promise I won't get in the way."

Angela turned from where she was beginning to prepare some sort of solution over a small magical fire. She stared at Arya and then Eragon and raised her eyebrows. Arya nodded miserably. "I suppose you could stay, but you must not get in the way." Arya retreated to a stool in the corner of the tent. Angela looked and jumped when she found Saphira's large glistening eye staring at her through the tent flap. _Saphira, I would request aid from you and Vanilor, but I would like to speak with him for a second._

Saphira directed her to the correct saddlebag and Angela held the eldunari with a look of reverence on her face. _Vanilor, the head rider is dying and I require your strength to heal him. Will you assist me?_

Of all things, a sense of wonder and amusement came from the heart-of-hearts. _Meira, it is you._

Angela winced. _I have always hated that name. I go by Angela now. _She saw the stares she received from Saphira and Arya. "So I knew him." She shook her head and walked over to Eragon, drawing her dagger and cutting off his tunic.

Arya watched for what seemed like hours as the witch cast various spells over Eragon and put poultices over the wound. Eventually, Angela sighed and simply wrapped his chest in clean white cloth. "Will he be alright?" Arya walked over to kneel beside the cot and took Eragon's cold hand.

"The fact that he has survived this long bodes well." Angela put her hand on the elf's shoulder. "You should go and get some rest and something to eat, I will watch over him."

Because Angela already knew, Arya could not refrain from lightly kissing his brow, something she never would have done had Eragon been awake. Then, Arya hurried out of the tent, accidentally running into Saphira's leg. The dragon turned a hard eye on her and hissed.

_I never apologized to you for how I treated him. _Arya hung her head and let guilt and regret flow over to Saphira. _I'm sorry._

Saphira sniffed, but kept her eye on the elf. _You had no right to hurt him so. _Saphira growled, anger reawakened, but Arya took a step towards her instead of back.

_Can I try to explain, Saphira, please?_ Saphira dipped her head slowly and Arya let all the barriers she kept up fall, exposing herself to the dragon. Arya let her emotions spill across the contact. She let Saphira sense everything. Her fear, her sorrow, her confusion. Then she sent memories. Laughing and singing with Faolin, fighting side by side with him, looking up at the stars through the treetops of Du Weldenvarden. _Don't you see, Saphira? I loved him, but it hasn't even been a year and I feel like I'm betraying him, dishonoring his memory. I love Eragon. I told him, but how could I forget Faolin? He died defeating me and I thank him by falling in love with the next man I meet._

_Hush, little one. _Hostility gone, Saphira wrapped Arya's mind with comfort and reassurance. She had not expected Arya to reveal so much, and neither did she expect Arya had meant to. As Saphira had listened, suddenly the elf's behavior had made sense and she felt pity for her situation. _I understand, Arya. It is forgiven. _She nudged the elf with her nose. _Crying is not a sign of weakness, Arya. I can sense you are holding back._

Arya stopped fighting the tears and threw her arms around Saphira's head, sobbing with her cheek pressed against the dragon's warm scales. Feeling the elf's exhaustion, Saphira pushed her gently against her side and covered her with a wing. _Sleep, Arya. I will watch Eragon. _Arya yawned and curled against Saphira, having no trouble drifting off to sleep.

She was woken later by Saphira. By the way the sun had moved in the sky, Arya guessed she had slept near six hours. Saphira had said he was waking. She pressed into the tent to find it empty but for Eragon. Arya's fingers lightly brushed his face and he stirred. Then, his eyes opened and he looked up at her.

Eragon POV

Eragon opened his eyes and blinked several times. What had happened? And where was he? Everything was blurry, but then the scent of pine came to him. "Arya?"

"I'm right here, Eragon." She put a hand on his arm. He lay still for a while until he could see more clearly. "How do you feel?"

"I am stiff and my chest hurts."

"That is to be expected." She was gazing down at him. "But you will live now."

Eragon stared at her. She had said the last with so much relief. Then he sighed and pushed himself up into a sitting position. Even if it hurt, he had responsibilities. As soon as he sat, Arya could not restrain herself from throwing her arms around him and embracing him tightly. Surprised, Eragon wrapped his arms around her in return. "We didn't know if you'd survive. I thought…"

Eragon cut off her words with a smile. "I told you I intend on staying alive." She pulled back and could not help a small laugh.

At that moment, Arya heard a sound behind her and turned to see Nasuada staring at them. Flushing, Arya released Eragon quickly and stood.

Nasuada's surprise turned to amusement and she couldn't help smiling. "I can pretend I didn't see anything."

Arya glanced at Eragon and then sighed. "Please don't tell anyone, Nasuada, especially my mother. And besides, it's not like that. Eragon and I are just good friends." Nasuada snorted, showing what she thought about that, and Arya's eyes flashed. "If you don't believe me, I could say it in the ancient language."

"That is…" Nasuada smiled again. "I would love to hear that."

Arya sighed and began to speak. "Eragon and I are only…" Her eyes widened as she was unable to complete her sentence.

Nasuada smiled slightly. "You don't even believe it yourself."

Arya glared at her for a second before turning to Eragon. "I don't like leaving Wyrda alone with Thorn. I will come back later."

"Don't antagonize her." Eragon said quietly as he watched Arya leave.

"I am sorry, Eragon." To her credit, she did look slightly embarrassed. "How are you feeling?"

Eragon's hand went unconsciously to his chest and he shrugged. Then, ignoring Nasuada's protest, he forced himself to his feet and stumbled out of the tent. _Saphira. _He walked over and leaned against her side. Saphira nuzzled his arm gently.

_I am glad you are well, little one. _Her voice then took on a teasing tone with a bit of annoyance as well. _Again you get yourself into trouble when you are not with me._

Eragon ran his fingers across her side, hoping to reassure her. _I am sorry, but it was necessary. _

"Eragon," Nasuada's voice called him out of his reverie, "I had come to tell you that Belatona has fallen completely and is now being secured. After you were injured, Blodhgarm went after Lord Bradburn and took him prisoner. Roran is safe as well."

He nodded his appreciation for her adding the last part. "How were the casualties?"

"Fewer than expected."

Suddenly, Eragon felt Arya's presence inside his head. _Eragon, Thorn has not been healed from the battle, but he won't let me help him. It isn't serious, but still._

_I'll come. _Eragon mounted Saphira with obvious effort and nodded to Nasuada. "There is something I need attend to." Her expression was disapproving, but Eragon knew Thorn's trust was too important.

**Yeah… I don't know. I didn't think over what happened after Eragon was injured so this is my transition. I hope it wasn't too long. By the way, Arya's POV was supposed to be a little choppy and confused as she is not thinking straight. But, anyway, what did you think? Especially on Arya's bit. I had trouble writing her and need to know if it is good enough to go back to her later in the story. Also, I know Nasuada seemed a bit OOC, but she was just exited over the victory. Well, leave a review as to what you thought. Let's try and reach fifty.**


	12. Important Matters

**A.N. Congratulations to Eragontheone for being the fiftieth reviewer. You gave me 10 reviews, people, a new record for this story! Here is the next chapter, longer and quickly written because of the amount of reviews. Wiol ono.**

Eragon stepped up to Thorn, refreshed with Saphira's energy. Hissing, the ruby dragon spun towards him only to stop when he saw Eragon. _Why have you not let anyone heal you? _Arya stood back with Wyrda, watching.

_I do not wish for anyone to cast spells on me. I will not be coerced into serving anyone._

_Will you let _me_ heal you?_

Thorn took an experimental step on a leg Eragon saw had been dealt a deep cut by a sword. _I think so. _He said hesitantly. _If you swear healing is all you will attempt._

Too weary to argue with the dragon, and having previous experience trying to change a dragon's mind, Eragon swore an oath to the young dragon and began his work of healing the numerous wounds. He had to use Saphira and his energy both to finish and it left him exhausted. _Are you injured anywhere else that I missed?_

_No, Shadeslayer._

_Call me by my name, your rider does._

_Eragon? _He queried cautiously as if unsure that Eragon actually wished so.

He smiled at the dragon. _Yes. _A question came to his mind suddenly. _How old are you, Thorn?_

_Five months._

Eragon nodded, but he couldn't help glance at Saphira. She was almost a year old now, over twice the age of Thorn. She had barely been as old as him when they had first arrived at the Varden with Arya. _Thorn, you need a rider until we can rescue Murtagh. Arya will not be able to continue to ride you because Wyrda will grow quickly and she will ride him. I have several choices for you. _ Eragon began to present images of people and what they were like to the dragon who merely sniffed and waited. Eragon stopped and looked questioningly at Thorn. He unhappily blew smoke from his nose and did not answer. _Thorn, I know you do not wish for a rider besides Murtagh, but if you are to fight you need someone to fight alongside you and protect your neck if you fight another dragon. You do wish to fight?_

That got his attention, but he still seemed upset. _If that is the case. _Thorn paused for a moment, sifting through the choices Eragon had given him. Thorn hesitated for a minute considering Angela and Blodhgarm and, to Eragon's surprise, Horst, before deciding. _Him. _Thorn said decisively, sending the image at Eragon. The corners of Eragon's lips rose and Thorn glared at him. _Are you laughing at who I have chosen?_

_No, Thorn, I am not. _Though he could not help a small laugh at the irony at Thorn's last comment. _I will explain later. Come._

Eragon began to walk into the hectic rush of people trying to organize the chaos caused by the battle. Thorn followed behind him with his head down, shooting nervous glances at the members of the Varden who paused to watch him past with gazes filled with mistrust despite the fact that the dragon had helped win Belatona and had helped save Eragon's life. They arrived at Nasuada's tent and the guards let Eragon through to find that she was alone, pacing. "Eragon?" She jumped as Thorn's head came through the opening. "What is this?"

"I need to contact the elves."

She gave him a calculating look before nodding. "The mirror is over there."

Eragon walked to the mirror and cast a scrying spell with the modifications to allow sound and waited. A second passed, then ten, then thirty, then a minute. Eragon was about to break of a spell when a silvery haired elf stepped in front of the mirror. The elf touched his lips and began the greeting. Mentally changing to the ancient language, Eragon completed the greeting. "Did you wish to speak with the queen?"

"Actually, would you send for Vanir-vodhr? I need to speak with him."

The elf looked mildly confused, but nodded and left the range of Eragon's spell. From what he could see, the mirror reflected the inside of a gray tent. On the other side, a desk was set up with scrolls laid out. A small rug woven of grasses lay on the ground. Eragon sighed and waited. After a few minutes, Vanir entered the tent. Vanir raised his fingers to his lips and Eragon felt impatience rising. Why did the elves have to invent such a long greeting ritual? He preferred the humans' terse one-word welcomes.

"You sent for me?" Vanir asked politely, drawing Eragon from his thoughts.

"Yes." He paused and looked over at horn where Nasuada stood before him, talking quietly. He turned back to the mirror to find Vanir waiting. Of course he couldn't see. "Do you remember when we first met, how you believed you would have made a better rider?"

Vanir winced noticeably and touched his fingers to his lips again. "I was wrong, Eragon-finiarel. I had hoped all was forgiven."

"It is, Vanir, I mention it for another reason. It seems in a way you will get your chance, if only for a time. Thorn fights with us, but he needs a rider until he can be reunited with his true partner. I showed him memories and he has chosen you. Would you be accepting?"

"I no longer doubt a dragon's choice." He said seriously.

Eragon grinned. The last time that had happened, an ivory talon had been pressed against his chest and Saphira had declared him dead. "I must ask one thing though. Do you hold Thorn to blame for Glaedr and Oromis' deaths?"

The elf paled and he stared at Eragon. He was silent for a moment and Eragon knew he was thinking. "I suppose if they were nameslaves and Galbatorix ordered them to do it. No, Thorn is not to blame."

As they were speaking in the ancient language, Eragon knew it was truth and was reassured. "Please come as soon as possible to Belatona."

"I will gather provisions and leave today. Was there anything more?"

"That is all." Vanir nodded to Eragon and departed. Eragon released the spell and noticed how low he still was on energy. Shaking the thoughts out of his head, Eragon walked to Thorn. "Vanir is on his way." He felt a confused rush of emotions from the dragon and put a hand on his snout. "It is necessary."

Bidding farewell to Nasuada, Eragon exited the tent and Thorn padded up to him. _Eragon, what will I do if Galbatorix forces Murtagh to fight me? I could not harm him. You wouldn't force me to fight him, would you? _Eragon placed his hand on the dragon's shoulder as they walked and tried to assuage the dragon's fear and hurt.

_I would never force you to do such a thing, Thorn. If you ever find yourself in that situation, call for me, and I will make sure Vanir understands when he arrives. We will take Murtagh captive._

_Thank you, Ebrethil. _The dragon continued to walk beside him and Eragon still had a hand on the dragon's blood red scales. _Where are you going?_

_I am going to visit my cousin, Roran. I have not seen him since before the battle and would like to check on him. You can come or go as you wish._

_I will go back to the tents and watch the hatchling. Saphira wishes to teach Arya something about flying. But I will walk with you there. The Varden does not trust me, but maybe if I am seen with you enough. They all trust you with their lives. Perhaps I can convince them I am fighting on their side. _Thorn plodded along with his head low. _I have never been apart from Murtagh before. _Eragon noticed that even in the last few days, the dragon had become less hard, but he still had a long way to go. The suspicious looks he directed at the passing people to his muscles, tense and ready to spring, all contributed to the idea of his treachery. He did not look innocent.

They arrived at Roran's tent and saw him outside practicing with his hammer. Roran waved to Eragon and walked over. Eragon smiled, but turned to the dragon, he had not known how to respond to his last comment. _We will help him somehow._

In reply, Thorn shyly nudged Eragon's arm and backed up. _I will go now. Thank you for taking with me, Eragon. _Eragon watched as the dragon glided over the Varden back towards the Rider's Quarter as it had come to be known as.

Roran stared after the dragon with a frown. "What was that about?"

Eragon sighed. "Thorn has been a lot to deal with. He is blindly trusting of me, and is perfectly obedient, but he would not even let Arya, who rode him in battle, heal his injuries. I keep forgetting his age. In fact, he is closer in age to Wyrda than he is to Saphira. He has never before known freedom and keeps expecting me to give him orders or punish him. What just happened is that I made him choose a replacement rider for Murtagh.

Roran frowned. "He was so upset over that?"

"Do not presume to understand him, Roran. Let me explain. How did you feel when Katrina was being held captive by the Ra'zac" Roran's face paled. "There is really not much difference. If anything, a rider's bond is many times deeper. Their very minds are connected. Choosing a different rider, even if it is only temporary, feels like betrayal to him. He knows Murtagh would condemn him for it."

"I think I see." Roran said carefully. "I did not mean to offend, Eragon. Are you alright? I visited after the battle, but you were unconscious. They did not know if you would live, but now you look the same as usual. But a bit tired."

"I feel as if I have not slept in a week, and I am starting to believe bed rest might not have been a bad idea, but it is too late now, anyways. How is Katrina?" Eragon asked, changing the subject quickly.

He was rewarded by the easy smile that came over Roran's face. "She is resting. Did I mention she was pregnant?" He said wryly and Eragon laughed.

"You are lucky with the war. People will be too distracted to notice. But do you really think you are going to fool Gertrude? She probably already knows."

"Probably." He agreed. "But she will not say anything. But I am curious. How are things with your elf? And she is a rider too now."

"Her name is Arya." Eragon said, ignoring Roran's laugh. He had been hoping for that reaction. "And to tell the truth, I have no idea where we stand. She told me she loves me." Eragon added quietly. Arya might not wish anyone to know just yet, but Eragon needed someone to talk to, and he had never hid things from his cousin. "I am waiting for her to give me some sort of hint."

Roran shrugged and smiled. "Kiss her."

Eragon stared at him incredulously. "And get slapped?" Roran broke down into helpless laughter at the look on Eragon's face. "You do not know her. If I tried that who knows what she would do." He only laughed harder. "Oh, shut up. You had it easy. I do not even know the elves customs about courting and I cannot very well as her or the other elves."

"It would be you who is stuck in this mess, Eragon."

Eragon smiled, annoyance fading slightly with his cousin. "Brom always was amazed at my ability to complicate the situations."

"I still can't believe he was your father. Living all those years just a couple miles away and never telling you. I don't see why."

"It wasn't his fault. He just didn't want to put me in danger if he was discovered. I am just glad not to be Morzan's son."

There was a silence between them and then Roran stuck his hand in his pocket. "I have something to show you." Roran drew something out and held onto it for a second. "You said if I ever got it to work to tell you. I managed yesterday. Stenr Risa." He opened his fist and a smooth pebble rose from his palm. Roran stared at it in concentration as it rose ten inches before beginning to wobble. Roran lowered it back to his hand and looked at Eragon, breathing heavier, but smiling.

"That was…" Eragon stared at his cousin in shock, "impressive, Roran."

Roran closed his fist around the stone. "Don't patronize me, Eragon. I almost decided not to tell you because that is the extent of what I can do. I doubt it would help any."

"You don't understand, Roran. You expect too much from being around me and the elves. I can already see you will have much strength for a human. You have only begun." Eragon smiled. "Unfortunately, I do not have the time to train you, and I would not know where to start. There is no way I could teach you as Brom instructed me. I will take you to Angela. Come."

Roran pocketed the stone and followed Eragon to the herbalist's colorful tent. Eragon knocked on the frame and Angela stuck out her head. As her eyes fell on Eragon, a frown and a look of relief both came over her face. "And who gave you permission to leave?" she asked, planting her hands on her hips as she waved them inside. "You are a fool."

Eragon accepted the insult without comment. She was right on that. He had gone off the same day he had experienced a fatal chest wound and nearly died. "May we sit?"

For a moment, Eragon believed he was in for a tirade, but then she sighed and waved in front of her, taking the chair in the room. Having visited her before, Eragon sat on the floor as she took the chair. Roran looked between the two of them and settled on the ground beside his cousin. He kept his mouth shut and waited. Eragon broke the silence. "Where is Solembum?"

"About." She looked at Roran intently and then back at Eragon. "What was it you wished?"

"Soon I will be burdened with the training of two dragons and a rider along with my other duties. Another substitute rider will be arriving soon as well. Roran needs someone to teach him magic.

"Someone cannot simply learn magic, Eragon. I thought you knew more than that." Her voice was disappointed.

"He has the ability. Roran came across it yesterday. Show her." This was directed to Roran who took out the stone. He threw a nervous glance at Angela and then muttered the words. The stone rose into the air for a few seconds and then slowly return to his hand. Eragon was amazed to see the stone gave only the slightest of wobbles as it returned to his hand.

Angela's eyebrows had risen at the display. "Impressive." She said, echoing Eragon's words. Her eyes lit up. "I haven't had a pupil in too long." She looked at Roran. "Two questions to determine your worth. Do you agree?"

Roran glanced at Eragon and then nodded, turning back to the witch. "Do toads exist?"

He stared at her and then, realizing her question was genuine, considered it for a few seconds."Yes."

She stared at him. Eragon waited patiently. He had come to expect these things from Angela, but Roran probably hadn't spoken with her before. He didn't know she didn't believe toads existed, but why would she as him that? "How do you know? What if toads are really frogs? How do you know they don't exist?"

Roran thought for a while before smiling and pulling out the stone again. "This is a stone. If, suddenly, someone were to come and tell me there was no such thing as a stone and what I really held was a rock, it would not disappear and would exist none less because of it."

Angela gave him a hard, calculating look and then smiled broadly. "Good answer. Now, the second question, how old do you think I am?"

Again Roran contemplated the question, but this time he frowned. Looking at her closely, he answered. "I have no idea. I could tell you how old you look, but I would have no idea of your real age."

"What is your answer?"

"I don't know. "He responded evenly. "That is my answer."

She again broke into a grin and this time laughed. "Wise in many ways. You are wise not to guess at a woman's age and very wise not to create an answer when you have not the faintest clue as to the answer. I will teach you."

Eragon stood. "I will leave now then." He walked towards the exit when Angela spoke.

"Eragon." He flinched at the note in her voice and turned. "Drink this. It will help with the stiffness in your chest."

He took the cup and warily sniffed it. Eragon shoved it away. "It smells horrible. I am not drinking that."

"Yes you are, even if I have to force it down your throat. Are you really in condition to fight me? Drink it, Eragon, now."

Eragon gingerly put the cup to his lips and took a swallow. He nearly gagged and put it down again, but Angela had crossed her arms and was watching him closely. He glared back. She had probably made it taste foul on purpose. He drank the rest and set it back down. "Happy?" He looked at Roran who was laughing helplessly. "What?" He demanded.

"You still let yourself get pushed around. I doubt what you just drank even does anything. She was just angry with you."

Eragon's eyes widened and he spun to face Angela. "Is that true?"

Instead or responding, she simply winked. Eragon stormed out of the tent and heard their laughter behind him. Because he had to got the lingering aftertaste out of his mouth and because he was hungry, Eragon stopped at the kitchens before walking back towards where his tent was. They would move into the city today as the rest of the Varden was, but not yet. Eragon was impressed with his cousin. He had never guessed Roran would be able to answer Angela's questions in a way which pleased her so much. He was lost in thought and stood at the entrance of his tent for a minute before walking over to Thorn and Wyrda.

Wyrda ran over and rubbed his head on Eragon's legs like a cat. Smiling, Eragon knelt down and scratched the dragon's head. "How are you?" He asked the little dragon. Wyrda cocked his head and then ran back towards Thorn and curled up next to the red dragon's head. Thorn opened an eye, looking surprised, but did not disturb the hatchling.

Eragon sat down and tried to meditate, but was disturbed by the sound of someone approaching. He opened his eyes as Jarsha stopped before him. "I have a message from Lady Nasuada." He held it out, shooting a nervous glance at the red dragon.

"Thank you." Eragon took the letter and the boy ran off.

Opening the seal, Eragon read what it had to say. _Eragon, I request your presence as soon as possible. We have moved the center of command into the castle. Go there and the guards will direct you to me. Do not waste time. It may be important._ Eragon stared at the letter and then stood, running to the castle.

**Minor cliffhanger. You're welcome. Anyone guess what is happening? What do you think of Roran becoming a magician? Oh, and SimplySupreme, you win for first mentioning Angela's name. There is something behind that. I am planning to start an autobiography, written by Angela as soon as I can get her personality more into the writing. Anyway, leave a review everyone. And yes, Eragon and Arya will be in a scene together. Right now, Arya is avoiding him and he is afraid to confront her. Tell me what you thought.**


	13. A Strange Meeting

**A.N. Now I think some of you could review me. For the amount of favorites and alerts this had been added to, I think some of those people could review. But, here it is, the next chapter. I hope I got Nasuada a bit better here. I reread her parts of the books. Read!**

Eragon entered the room, expecting a meeting, but Nasuada was alone. She held out a piece of yellowed parchment for him to see. "I came here and found this. It's in the ancient language, Eragon. Would you read it for me?"

_Leader of the Varden, by seizing Belatona, you have proven your worth. I wish to aid you in the war, and you would find my help extremely useful. I wish to meet with you tonight at midnight in the passages beneath the castle. You may bring one other, but no more. Do not miss this opportunity for it will not come again._

Nasuada frowned and began to pace. "You cannot lie in the ancient language in writing?"

"It is impossible, but words can be twisted." Nasuada continued to pace. "You can't honestly be considering this."

She spun to face him. "And what if it's real? Would you pass up an opportunity that may increase our chances? If you haven't noticed, the empire's army only continues to grow while ours shrinks. And are you yet a match for Galbatorix?"

No, he was not. Eragon's anger flared. But he fought. "What if you are killed? Is there another who could fill your place so well? You endanger the Varden."

Her eyes flashed. "Never accuse me of that, Eragon. I have given everything for the Varden. But I see a way to help them and you refuse to let me investigate?"

"We have no way of knowing if this is real. Midnight? Beneath the castle? How honest is that?"

Nasuada didn't respond. Then she stopped and nodded to herself. "I will go alone if I must, but it says one other may come. Accompany me and protect me if you must, but I am going. Now, I need your word that you will not share this with anyone. They will interfere."

Eragon glared at her. "I do not agree, but I will not see you in danger because of this. I am coming. " Eragon swore not to tell anyone and then left, saying he needed to rest. While it was true, he had no intentions of resting immediately.

Eragon kicked a rock on the ground as walked to his tent. Saphira walked over and nudged him with her head. _Little one, what troubles you?_

_I cannot say._

_You know._

_I did not say that I did not know. I said I could not say. _He snapped and then guilt hit him as she drew away from him. _I'm sorry, Saphira. It's just I'm worried. Nasuada is going to do something foolish, but has me sworn not to tell. That is all I can say._

_Everything will turn out alright. It has so far._

_How can you say that, Saphira? Garrow is dead. Brom is dead. Murtagh is a prisoner. Oromis is dead. Glaedr is trapped in his eldunarí. Everything is all right?_

_Eragon, calm down. _She tried to comfort him through her bond. _You are exhausted from today. _She paused. _Arya wished to see you about Wyrda._

Eragon nodded and scanned the area. Arya sat with the dragon in her lap, watching the people of the Varden move about. "Saphira said you wanted to see me?

She nodded and patted a hand on the ground beside her. Eragon sat and waited patiently. Wyrda was awake, humming quietly as his rider stroked his scales. "How fast do they grow? I know it is fast, but I have never learned exactly."

"It varies with the dragon, but usually it is about the same. He will grow fast. Already he is larger than a couple of days ago. Saphira began speaking with words around a month old. Around that same time she first flew me, but that was a little early. His shoulder will be a little higher than your elbow. Depending on how long of a winter there is, Wyrda might be old enough to fight before we reach Uru'baen."

She nodded. Eragon waited to see if she wanted to ask anything else. He sighed. He needed rest to recover from his injury, but he would be up late tonight. "What is wrong?"

Eragon shook his head. "Nasuada."

"Did she do something?"

"No, but she is going to. I can't say anything else, Arya. She made me promise in the ancient language."

"Oh." Eragon was glad when Arya dropped it. For a long time, Eragon sat without speaking. Eventually, Arya frowned at him. "There is more."

Eragon nodded and studied her face. "Where do we stand, Arya?"

He knew how she would react before she did. Though she sat beside him, suddenly it was as if Arya was miles away. Her face lost all expression and she turned away. Eragon leaned back so that he was propped up on his elbows and watched the clouds. Would she answer?

Finally, Arya looked at him again. "Eragon, now is not a good time to begin a relationship. There is too much of a chance of one or both of us dying. Especially with Faolin's prophecy. I am afraid there might be more of a chance of it coming true the closer we are."

Eragon's eyes hadn't left her face, but he caught the way she stumbled over his name. "You still think of him as well."

She hesitated before nodding. Eragon fought with his jealousy as Arya played with her boot string. "It hasn't even been a year yet. But I do love you, Eragon. I just think it's best if we continued on as usual. Until the war is over."

Eragon felt his heart fall. She had gotten his hopes up and then crushed them again. Eragon wiped a tear from his eye and walked over to Saphira. She nosed him gently and he leaned against her neck. Eragon could feel Arya watching him. A minute later, he heard her footsteps and she approached.

Arya POV

Saphira swung her head around Eragon to create a wall the elf could not cross and growled low in her throat. _Do you enjoy hurting him? _She asked.

Arya stared at the saphire dragon. "Eragon. Will you go for a walk with me?"

"Just leave me alone, Arya. Go away." He glanced back and saw pain on her face, but he didn't care. She obviously didn't.

_Saphira. _Arya pleaded. _Please convince him to talk with me._

_So you may hurt him more? I talked with you, Arya. I thought you loved him. Is this love? _Arya looked at Eragon, determinedly looking away from her, leaning against his dragon for comfort.

_Five minutes? _Arya begged.

Saphira fell silent and Arya was about to give up when the dragon moved her head. _Do not make me angrier._

Arya hoped she wouldn't, but even with the best of intentions, she caused him agony. Eragon turned and stepped away from Saphira. "She has persuaded me to give you five minutes time, but I do not know why I have agreed. What do you want?"

She winced at the tone of his voice. "I didn't mean to hurt you again. I mean well."

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions." Eragon muttered quietly, but not quietly enough that her ears didn't catch it.

"Eragon. Look at me."

Reluctantly, his eyes rose to meet hers and he saw the tears. Arya reached for his hand, but he drew it away. "I'm sorry. What do you want me to do? I'm not ready."

His eyes softened, but his posture showed no forgiveness. Arya waited, hoping he would speak. "What if I am to die?"

Arya stared at him. Eragon had said it so easily. As if he didn't care. Arya's chest tightened. He couldn't become hard. That was what she liked most about him. No matter what he went through, he was still the same honest farm boy he had started out as. "What do you mean?"

"If Faolin was right, and I die. We will never have been together."

"I can't, Eragon. I'm not ready." He turned away again. Arya grabbed his arm before he reached Saphira. By now, Wyrda had begun whining and rubbed against her rider's leg. He too was upset now. She had to decide. Arya grabbed Eragon's hand and forced him to look at her. "Give me the night to think, Eragon. I will have your answer in the morning." Arya nodded to him and scooped her dragon into her arms, disappearing into her tent.

* * *

><p>Eragon walked up to the castle. The moon was only a small sliver, but his elven vision picked up enough to move about. He slipped into the castle and went to Nasuada's room immediately to find it empty. He swore. She didn't leave without him, did she? Then his eyes caught a note on the table and he walked over. <em>Eragon, my sleeping chambers are several doors down the first hallway on your left if you turn right from the door. You must not let the guards know of this. Put them to sleep if you must, but do not be seen. I am expecting you, but if you do not arrive I will go alone. Nasuada<em>

Eragon slipped noiselessly through the door and cast a spell to make himself invisible. Walking quietly, he stood directly before the guards and considered his options. Her reached out with his mind and blocked the men from seeing or hearing what he was about to do. Instead, they say the same empty hallway they had been watching. Eragon slipped the door open and stepped inside. Nasuada looked up when the door open and watched as Eragon became visible.

"My lady, is there any way I can talk you out of this?"

Eragon knew the answer before she gave it. "It is a risk, but one I wish to take."

"I didn't think you would change your mind." Eragon cast several spells in the ancient language.

"What are you doing?"

"Setting strong wards around you."

"Oh." Nasuada waited. Then, he turned them invisible.

"Stay close behind me. Follow my footsteps." They left through the door and walked down the hall.

More than once Nasuada called out his name quietly, sure she had lost him. "I am right in front of you. I won't leave you." Eventually, they found themselves at the top of a dark staircase. "Garjzla." A light popped into existence in front of Eragon and he went down the stairs, listening for Nasuada to follow. Her steps were unsure and hesitant. Eragon sighed, of course now she would realize the stupidity of her decision to try this, but she wouldn't back down. They walked to the middle of the passages beneath the castle and Eragon dropped their invisibility. It was near midnight.

They had waited too long. Whoever was supposed to meet them was late. "Something is going on here." Eragon said quietly so that only Nasuada could hear him. "The note and everything. I still don't think it is safe for you to be here."

"I assumed you would protect me." Nasuada's voice was cold. She did not like to be told she was wrong, especially when there was a possibility of it being true. It was ten minutes past the time the letter had stated. Who requested a meeting with the leader of the Varden and then arrived late?

The answer came as the thought crossed her mind. A large shaggy cat walked into the light and transformed into a feral looking boy with sharp pointed teeth and dark eyes. He was also missing several fingers on his hand. "Lady Nightstalker, I am pleased to meet you. My name is Grimmr Halfpaw, king of the werecats."

Nasuada's eyes went wide and then she smiled, regaining her composure immediately. "A pleasure. Now, what is it you wished to discuss?"

The king looked at her intently before responding. "I would like to make an alliance to defeat King Galbatorix. It seems you are in need of some help, and I am willing to help, provided I get a few things I want."

Nasuada's eyes narrowed. She knew she had to be careful now. She was dealing with an experienced monarch and werecat, not some feeble minded lordling she could bend to her will. "What are your conditions?"

"I assume you will wish to discuss this with your council. We will meet again, tomorrow on your territory, first thing in the morning." With that, the werecat king disappeared into the dark again.

**Now, don't get mad at me for the werecats. I will be doing it a bit different that CP, but as I have no idea what comes before or after the excerpt, therefore, I will bend it to fit my story. I have some ideas with them. REVIEW! Oh, and by the way, I mentioned Angela's little story. I published the first chapter, a foreword. I would appreciate it if you would look at it. It is called The Herbalist. Thanks. And don't forget to review.**


	14. The Werecat King

**A.N. Here it is. A nice long chapter just for you guys. Before we begin, I would like to ask you guys to look at my other story. It's really short right now, but please? It's called The Herbalist and is an autobiography written by Angela. Anyway, the chapter.**

Arya POV

Arya woke early, before the sun had risen, to a feeling of intense hunger. She sighed and looked at her dragon. Her dragon. It still felt weird to think of that. Wyrda was hers. He squeaked impatiently and Arya patted his head. "I will get you your food. Just let me get dressed." He cocked his head, uncomprehending, and Arya smiled at him. She tried to convey her words with images and feelings, but the dragon got too excited when she pictured food and paid little attention to the rest.

Sitting the dragon on her shoulder, Arya pushed open the flap and saw a bundle on the ground. There was a note on it and she picked it up to read. _I noticed he didn't eat last night. In case he wakes you up, here is something for him. Eragon_

Arya brought it inside and set it down, unwrapping several pieces of dried meat. She silently thanked Eragon. As she fed the hatchling, Arya realized suddenly what day it was. It had been a year. A year to the date that Faolin had died. Arya closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, but it didn't help. Wyrda squeaked anxiously and rubbed his head against her leg, drawing Arya back to the present.

She had to control her emotions. She was upsetting the small dragon. Arya continued feeding Wyrda, but her mind kept straying to that bitter memory. Faolin had died for her.

Eragon POV

Eragon woke after little sleep. Nasuada had insisted on discussing the king into the early hours. Eragon finally had to point out that he needed to sleep and that he hadn't rested since he had nearly died. Nasuada had suddenly looked at him with worry and sent him to sleep. But now, three hours later, he was getting ready for the day. When the sun rose in less than an hour, there would be a meeting to see if an alliance could be made.

_Good morning. _Saphira greeted him as he left the tent, yawning.

_Good morning, Saphira. Did you sleep well? _Eragon leaned against her and rubbed neck with his hand.

_Yes. _He had informed her of the events as soon as he could and she had gone to sleep, not waiting for him to finish and return.

Eragon saw Thorn watching him and turned to the dragon. _Did you need something? _Thorn shook his head and lay back down, but Eragon wasn't convinced. _What is it?_

_Murtagh. Even at this distance, I can tell when he is in pain. _Unsure what to say, Eragon put a hand on the dragon. Thorn shook himself and blew smoke from his nose. _I am going flying. I always feel better when I fly._

_Alright. Just don't go far. _Thorn took off and Eragon exchanged a look with Saphira. _I worry for him._

_He is a dragon, Eragon._

_He is a hatchling. And his rider is lost. _Eragon countered.

_Your meeting will be staring soon. If I remember right, you are supposed to tell Arya. _Eragon jumped. He had forgotten about her in dealing with the dragons.

A wave of guilt hit him. He had been irritable with Arya the day before and was trying to force her to a decision she said she was unready to make. He paused outside her tent. She was already awake and the food he had left for Wyrda was gone. He smiled.

"Come in, Eragon."

He pulled back the tent flap and entered. Touching his fingers to his lips, Eragon spoke in the ancient language. "I regret my behavior yesterday, Arya. I should not have spoken to you like that and I apologize. You do not have to answer me."

"Thank you." Her voice was almost a whisper. Eragon glanced down at Wyrda and saw the dragon pushing at Arya's leg. From her expression, nothing seemed wrong, but with the hatchling's behavior.

"Are you alright?"

She slowly shook her head. "Eragon, what day is it?"

Eragon frowned, confused as to what she was talking about, but then realization dawned on him. "I think today is the day Saphira's egg appeared to me and that means…" He stopped. "I am sorry."

Arya took a deep breath and looked at him. "I believe there was something you were going to tell me?"

Eragon nodded. The lack of sleep was getting to him and making him forgetful. Eragon recounted the previous night and told Arya of the meeting that morning. In a minute, she was ready and they mounted Saphira.

Saphira landed at the market square in the center of the castle. It had been cleared away and the meeting room had been chosen so that a dragon could observe the proceedings through a large archway door large enough to accommodate Saphira's head. Nasuada walked over to them. "You are nearly late." She said irritably.

"But still on time." Eragon said with a slight smile. He knew it was immature, but he could not help feeling better knowing that Nasuada was suffering from her long night too. Arya walked into the room and took her chair with Wyrda resting on her lap. Eragon was pleased to find he was sitting next to Arya.

He felt Saphira's amusement and refrained from defending himself. Though their minds were connected, Eragon tried as hard as he could to ignore her. _Eragon._

_What, Saphira?_

_We both know how you feel about her. Why are you so embarrassed by it?_

_You know why?_

Suddenly, Saphira's amusement faded and was replaced with reassurance. _Little one, sometimes you do not think. You have lived among the elves and know something of their customs. Elves are not as hasty as humans are. Arya traveled with Faolin for twenty years. She loved him._

_A great reassurance you are, Saphira. I thought you were on my side in this._

_Do not interrupt me. They knew each other even before that. How long did it take for Arya's feelings to develop? She has known you for only months and she has admitted to loving you. Don't you think that this is stretching her? You keep expecting her to be like a human when she is not. Arya will come around. There is hope._

_Thank you, Saphira. I think-_

_ERAGON! _He leapt at the force of Arya's mental call and looked about. Everyone was staring at him."Eragon, what is wrong with you?" Arya asked in a normal tone of voice.

"I was speaking with Saphira."

"You would not answer to any of us."

He shrugged. "I did not hear you." Eragon turned to Saphira. _Did you do that?_

_You needed to hear what I had to say without interruption. They are staring at you again._

Eragon jerked back to his surroundings. "Are you two quite finished?" Nasuada asked with a hint of asperity. She was stressed enough without him not listening. Eragon looked around. A few more people had arrived and were sitting around the table. Angela winked at him from where she was sitting. Islanzadí watched through the mirror. "All of you have been summoned here for a meeting of extreme importance, though only a few know what this is about. The king of the werecats seeks an alliance." There were gasps around the room. Only Eragon, Arya, and Angela seemed unsurprised.

Eragon wondered about Angela for a second before considering Solembum. Of course he would know if his king was coming. At that moment, the door swung open and the same wild looking boy who had met them in the basement corridors walked into the room. The only physical indication that the being before them was any sort of nobility was the gold band he wore around his neck, but his bearing spoke much more about his position. The werecat called all attention to him without speaking a word, and Eragon knew if he spoke, all would listen. He moved knowing that all others would move for him.

"Nasuada, Lady Nightstalker, Leader of the Varden, I am Grimmr Halfpaw, King of the Werecats, Lord of the Lonely Places, Ruler of the Night Reaches, and He Who Walks Alone. I have come to discuss the possibility of an alliance between the Varden and my people." Two more werecats walked into the room and the door was shut. One was in the form of a shaggy brown cat and the other as a boy, albeit heavily scarred and armed.

The werecat lazily eyed the room, pausing over Eragon and Saphira, but then his gaze froze. "You!" He hissed, and Eragon knew if he had been on the receiving end of that look he would have been terrified.

Angela smiled amiably. "Me." She agreed.

"And I suppose the Prince of the Shadows still walks with you." His voice was full of distaste.

Her grin only widened. "He is with me."

"Will you repent?" Eragon could not understand what was going on.

He felt Saphira's curiosity. _Solembum is a prince and Angela knows the werecat king?_ _I think there is a god story hiding here. _Eragon agreed, but watched the pair with interest.

"Of what?" She asked, too innocently. Grimmr Halfpaw hissed at her again.

Nasuada decided it would be a good decision to break up the tension in the room. "It is an honor to meet with you, Grimmr Halfpaw." In response the werecat merely tipped his head, but he turned his gaze from Angela and seemed to pretend she wasn't there.

"How many are you?

"I speak for all my kind. Our numbers are not as large as they once were, but I have with me every able bodied werecat, all battle trained. We are three hundred and fifty seven, not counting those too young or old to fight."

Nasuada's eyes widened. The extents of werecats' powers were unknown, but that many werecats was like adding twice the number of elven spellcasters to the army. "What do you wish for this?"

Grimmr Halfpaw smiled, revealing sharp pointed teeth. "Nothing you can't afford. We do not desire gold or possessions, but there are several favors we require. First, my people must be allowed access to your forges and tools to craft armor and weapons. They will have their own material, but as we do not stay in one place long, we lack the means to smith. Second, when this war is over, I expect that the werecats will be realized as a separate people and be given the part of the Spine where we have made our home ours properly. That point cannot be altered if this deal is to work. This demand falls on you, Eragon Shadeslayer. Werecats will be allowed to become riders. Also, being the leader of the riders, you will have a werecat as your companion. Any other person a werecat chooses to accompany must accept it, whether for a day or for life. I will leave you for one hour to discuss and return to hear what you have decided." With that, the werecat stalked out of the room with an easy grace.

There was silence in the room and everyone stared at the door. Nasuada was the first to speak. "He asks for much, but his help is badly needed. His first condition requires little discussion." She faced the table. "Do any object to the werecat's use of our tools to make weapons?" No one spoke or moved. "I didn't think so, but the second…" her voice grew doubtful. "Ceding land is a dangerous business. What happens when they demand more land, land we need?"

"My lady," Eragon spoke and Nasuada turned to him. "The land he asks of is deep in the Spine, and it is unlikely humans will ever reach that far. Anyway, they would not ask for more until after the war. And if we do not win the war, there is no reason for worry in the first place."

"And what of his final request, what do you think of that?"

"It is not a good idea, Eragon." Islanzadí said.

Eragon paused. _Saphira, what do you think? You know Solembum, could you see him as a rider? Could it work?_

_I am not sure if a werecat rider would be a good idea. You know when a dragon is bound to a rider, the human or elf rubs off on them and smoothes some of the wildness in them. With a werecat though, they are equally as wild._

Eragon reached out his mind toward her saddlebags. _Vanilor, I ask your advice. The werecats are asking to be let in on the rider bond. What do you say?_

_They are a sentient magical race. It is logical that they would be accepted, so there is little room to argue. I suggest that you add some stipulations to that request_

_Such as what? Going through the training would be one thing for sure, but what else would help. _Eragon paused with a smile. _I have something he couldn't turn down. It would be a rule for all riders, not simply the werecats. The riders need to be changed to prevent there ever being another Galbatorix. An oath swearing that all actions will be for the good of sentient life could be one. That a rider cannot occupy a position of power outside the order. More as well. We don't have to come up with all yet._

_Yes, _Vanilor agreed, _that is a start. Oaths would be a good change for the riders._

_We will have to think and word the oaths carefully. _Saphira said, interjecting her thoughts. _As long as we take the same oaths, he cannot object._

_So it is a yes? _Eragon clarified. The other point was not difficult. It was supposed to be an honor if a werecat stayed with you even an hour.

_Yes._

_I think it must be. _The ancient dragon's voice said with a ring of finality.

Eragon realized he had spent the last ten minutes in discussion with the dragons and that everyone was watching him again."We do have some qualms, but they can be settled.

After exactly an hour, Grimmr Halfpaw returned, sitting in the chair he hadn't touched on his first entrance. "What have you decided?"

"Your first two requests will be granted without question, but Eragon has some words on the third."

A low growl came from the werecats throat, and Eragon felt that the king was trying to intimidate him. Saphira raised her head and growled a warning, moving her head closer to Eragon. The werecat fell silent. "King Halfpaw, I will change the spell to accept werecats into the order of riders under one condition, but know that the failure to accept this condition means it will never happen. All riders must swear several oaths that bind them to order and good, preventing this from happening again."

"If I remember correctly, Galbatorix is human. Werecats did not cause this disaster."

Eragon did not even blink, he had the king where he wanted him. Eragon stared the king in his eyes, asserting himself as the king's equal. "And that is why _all _new riders will swear these oaths, not only werecats, but you must agree that your followers will swear them."

Grimmr Halfpaw glowered, but he saw that Eragon was not going to waver. He nodded sharply and looked to Nasuada. "What sort of pledge are we making over this?"

"We will swear in the ancient language."

"So be it." The two monarchs agreed on Eragon to word the oaths. He made sure that they were binding and could not be easily twisted. He set particularly tight oaths regarding the werecat riders. Nasuada and Grimmr Halfpaw swore by the oaths and the meeting was dismissed.

As Eragon walked out of the building, he found the king by his side. "Come before my people and a werecat will join you."

"Are your people somewhere a dragon can follow?"

"We are in the woods, three miles east of Belatona."

Eragon nodded. He hadn't expected a large number of werecats to be hiding in the city. _Would you let him ride you?_

Eragon felt her hesitate. _I.. yes. It would be rude not to offer I think. _She brought her head before the king of the werecats. _I will bear you there._

"Thank you for this honor." Saphira knelt and Eragon mounted, the werecat agilely leaping to her saddle. She took off, angling to the east where the sun was getting higher in the sky.

Saphira landed in the middle of the strangest group Eragon had ever seen. A couple hundred werecats stood waiting, some appearing as large cats, and some as humans. There were even regular cats amongst the group. Grimmr Halfpaw leapt to the ground, bearing his teeth in a wild smile. "We are allies of the Varden." He announced, and half the werecats turned to look at him, though Eragon noticed those who didn't look swiveled their ears to catch what he would say next. "But there is a matter more. One of you must consent to be the rider's companion. Who among you will accept this?"

There was utter silence among the werecats. The only movement was the occasional flicking of a tail or an ear twitching to face a different direction. Long moments passed before a white werecat rose from the ground and stalked toward them. _I will. _She projected her voice to the entire camp. Suddenly, sound returned to the camp as the tension broke.

"Remember your honor." The king cautioned.

_Always. _Grimmr Halfpaw disappeared into his followers and the snowy werecat walked directly up to Eragon and looked him in the eyes. Then she transformed into a girl-child and grinned at him. "I am glad to make your acquaintance, rider."

Eragon could barely help staring at her strange appearance. Most of the other werecats he had seen could pass themselves off as an urchin, but she had no chance at that. Her skin was pale as ivory and her eyes flashed a bright yellow, even in her human form. Her ears were pointed and stuck through her hair which was the purest white Eragon had seen. Her form blurred back into a cat and she approached Saphira. _Well met, dragon._

_Well met indeed, werecat._

_I will share my name if you will share yours._

_I am Saphira Bjartskular._

_A fitting name for one such as yourself. I have not earned many names as of yet, but I have a few. I am Firedancer and Moonlight and the Spirit of the Winter, but the name I use most often in Alia._

_I look forward to knowing you._

The white werecat leapt onto Saphira's saddle and Eragon saw nothing to do, but follow. He sensed no fear from the werecat as they climbed high into the chilling air. With a new passenger, Saphira could not refrain from showing off with a few acrobatics. Needless to say, by the time they had landed, Eragon's legs had been punctured many times by needle sharp cat claws.

Arya had moved their things by the time they returned. It had been decided the dragons would stay in the castles gardens. There were a few small cabins in a cluster in the corner where the gardeners had stayed. Alia looked at the pile of Eragon's things critically.

_I expected something a bit more grandiose for the leader of the riders._

_If I wished I could have a larger dwelling and more ostentatious possessions, but I do not desire such things._

_Your ring is rather showy, and I know which belt it is you wear. Also, your sword is like a jewel._

_They are exceptions. The ring was my father's who has passed. The belt was a gift to be used, not displayed. As you can see, the diamonds are covered. Few people know of it. And as for the sword, it is a rider's sword and I will wear it with honor. Besides these things, I own little._

_I see. _She followed him as Eragon carried his things inside the small home. When he entered, he put his bag down and unloaded what he could. Alia sniffed at it and then turned away, continuing to explore every possible item in the tent. Suddenly, she jerked her head and stared at the bag. _What is it you are keeping in there? I sense two enormous presences._

_I will only show you if you promise not to tell anyone without my permission._

_I do not plan on binding myself to you with insignificant promises._

_Suit yourself. _Eragon went out to help Saphira out of her saddle, taking the bag with him. As he expected, the werecat followed within a minute.

_I promise not to speak of or reveal whatever happens to be in your bag unless you give me permission. _Her voice burned with curiosity and Eragon smiled.

"Very well. Let's go inside." Saphira lay so that her eye was in front of the door. Eragon opened the bag and withdrew the eldunarí. "They are a secret of the dragons, known to few, but they are called eldunarí. If a dragon disgorges theirs and their body dies, they continue to live on within the eldunarí. This is Glaedr, and this Vanilor."

She stared at them for a long moment before her attention was captured by something else. Suddenly, Eragon got the impression that she was a very young werecat.

Eragon heard a light knock on his door and opened it to find Arya. "Will you walk with me, Eragon?"

He nodded and closed the door quietly behind him. Alia was sleeping on the hearth. Neither of them spoke as they walked through the gardens. "I believe I made a promise to you, Eragon."

He looked at her. "I released you from it."

"But you made me think. Faolin died a year ago today. I admit I thought of him a lot today, Eragon, but I never knew him as well as I know you." Arya continued walking until she paused by a pond, staring at the sparkling reflections of the stars. "I never felt as close to him as I do with you. If you are to die, Eragon, I too would want this time. I am not ready for a relationship, but perhaps we can spend more time together alone." She frowned. "I can't understand my own feelings."

Eragon still did not speak. Arya looked up at him and he took her hand. Initially, she flinched and made to draw back her hand, but then she stood by his side holding his hand, looking at the reflection of the night sky on the water.

**And you thought Arya wasn't going to make a decision. I apologize for Arya being a bit OOC, especially in the end there. I have trouble with her. But, anyway, I expect more reviews for this one because I made it longer. What did you think of the werecats? Alia? What transpired between Angela and Grimmr Halfpaw will eventually be in the Herbalist. REVIEW! You guys will meet one of two goals before I post the next chapter. Either we reach seventy or someone new reviews. So, see you in a few days?**


	15. Friends

**A.N. You guys out did yourselves on the reviews last chapter. Way to go! This is sort of a random fluffy chapter, but I just wanted to write some stuff in. It's late already, but here we go. And yes, I would like to give a shout out to BassoonPlayer7 for being a new reviewer and the seventieth. And to everyone else who reviews my fic, I really appreciate it and I do read every review. **

Eragon stifled a yawn behind his hand and tried to pay attention to the meeting. He hated the meetings, especially when they dealt with rationing and bringing in food to last the winte. Matters he had nothing to do with, but the Council of Elders seemed to find pleasure in them. The werecats had joined forces with the Varden a day earlier and now he was discussing food. And when a meeting was scheduled, it lasted for hours. Nasuada had pulled him aside later with good news.

"We will be receiving reinforcements from the dwarves within a week or two. Orik will be leading them." She smiled. "You seem inattentive at the meetings lately."

"I am sorry, my lady, but I cannot force myself to care about the exact numbers of the Varden's livestock." Eragon knew he did not sound too sorry, but then, she did not seem to enjoy the meetings as much as the council.

"Yes, I noticed." She said wryly. "I am giving you leave from the meetings for training Arya and Wyrda along with whatever Thorn and his coming rider need to know."

"Thank you." Eragon did not feel the need to point out that the training would not likely be so time consuming that they would interfere with the meetings, but he suspected Nasuada knew that. She would tell him what he needed to know and do.

As Eragon left the tent, Alia walked over to him. _Yes? _Eragon asked.

_It would please me to meet your friends. You were the first being I have met that is not a werecat._

_If that is what you want._ Eragon had decided to go along with what the werecat asked, at least until he could get some time away from her and speak with Solembum. If Alia was to be with him for possibly years, he did not need to offend her within days. _Who would you like to meet first? You know Saphira. You could meet Arya and the other dragons. My cousin and his wife. I don't know what is between your king and her, but there is also Angela and Solembum._

Eragon felt another surge of curiosity. _Yes, I would like to meet Angela. _He walked to the room in the castle she had chosen and knocked on the door.

"Come in, Eragon." He pushed open the door. Roran was in her room, sitting on the floor. Eragon paused to watch what he was doing. He was tying a knot with two pieces of string without using his hands, and seeming to have a difficult time of it. Eragon smiled in amusement until Angela looked over at him. "It's not nearly as easy as it looks. Try it."

Eragon took a piece of yarn from her and stared at it. He whispered the word for knot in the ancient language and watched at the string twisted into a knot. He handed it back.

"No fair!" She exclaimed. "You cheated. You have to do it as Roran is."

Eragon watched his cousin and realized suddenly what he was doing. He used only the word 'risa' to lift different parts of the string as it was suspended in the air in front of him. "Roran, you can take a break." He let the string fall into his hand and pocketed it, turning to smile at Eragon.

"What was it?"

"Alia wanted to meet some of my friends, you in particular."

Angela's eyes flicked to the white werecat and she laughed. Alia walked over to the witch and looked up at her. _You are a legend among our people. The king long since banned all stories about you, but that only made them more popular._

_Now, if I offer to tell you the full version of the story, will you keep it to yourself, not tell anyone else._

_I will. _Her tail twitched with curiosity.

Angela looked up at Eragon and Roran. "You two, out."

Eragon sighed and left. Why he let Angela boss him around so, he didn't know, but he knew he never wanted the witch on his bad side. Suddenly there was complete silence in the tent and Eragon knew she had cast a spell to prevent eavesdropping. Eragon turned to his cousin. "How are your lessons in magic coming?"

"They are strange, but I am learning a lot. Angela won't teach me any other word besides 'rïsa.' She makes me do all sorts of things with it. When I started making the knot, I only thought of lifting the string and hoping it fell right, but then I realized when I think about it I can lift it diagonally or in two separate directions at the same time. Here, watch." Roran pulled the string from his pocket. "Rïsa." Eragon watched as the string rose off his palm and gracefully made a simple knot. "Now she gives me specific knots to make."

"You are progressing well. I see what she is doing now. Magic is only limited by imagination and strength, and sometimes one can make up for another."

Roran smiled his appreciation at the compliment. "What are your opinions on the werecats joining? And they are to be riders too?"

"I think they will be useful if nothing else. Not even the Riders knew the extent of their powers."

"And what of the werecat who has become your companion?"

"What of her? I know nothing about her, but I cannot ask because I know nothing of their customs. What I really need is to speak with Solembum. She is young though. That I can tell and I am glad for it. The young change quickly."

Roran shot him a look that was a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "The young? You are sixteen, Eragon, yet you talk as if you were an old man."

Roran laughed and Eragon could not help joining in. "It's the elves influence." He said. "Or Saphira. We had an argument a long time back about who was more of a hatchling. Even at several months she was old."

"I suppose. It just always surprises me to see that you are not the same boy from Garrow's farm."

"That I am not, but then, neither are you. The world has forced us both to grow up." They walked on through the city, not really going anywhere, but walking just for the excuse to spend time together. "How is Katrina?"

He smiled. "She is well. Did I mention she was pregnant?"

They both laughed. Eragon was the first to speak after. "Some will know." He said.

"Yes, Gertrude already seems to, no surprise there, but to most it will be lost in the chaos of the war. We never expected to deceive our friends." They crossed by the castle again and Eragon realized they had made a circle.

_Eragon. _Saphira spoke in his head. _Bring Roran here. I would like to see him, and he has not met Wyrda yet._

Eragon turned to his cousin. "Saphira would like to see you, and she says you should meet the little one. You never saw Saphira at that size. It is rather amazing how fast they grow. He has already doubled in size from when he hatched."

"Let's go then." They walked into the gardens, which had already been trampled and torn up by the dragons' landing and taking off, and towards the glimmering blue dragon who was watching them approach.

It was when they were close that Eragon noticed Arya's stern expression. "Um, Arya, what happened?" There was a jagged tear at the hem of her leather pants.

She looked at him and Eragon almost stepped back from the anger in her eyes. "He attacked me!" She glared at the little dragon who was pointedly ignoring all of them.

Eragon felt great amusement from Saphira and could not help himself from laughing as well. Finally, Eragon regained enough control to talk. "How long ago was it that you were laughing at Saphira misbehaving? What did you do to provoke him?"

"I didn't do anything."

Saphira sent them all a memory of Arya stepping on her dragon's tail, causing Eragon to laugh again. "Just apologize to him, Arya. He is too young to understand it was an accident."

She sighed and knelt before her dragon. Her eyes glazed and Eragon knew she was talking to her dragon. It was a minute before Wyrda turned and regarded her with an icy stare.

Arya looked to Eragon. "He doesn't believe I'm sorry."

"Because you're not, most likely." Before she could object, Eragon went on. "While you may regret stepping on his tail, you think he overreacted and are upset he attacked you."

Saphira snorted. _He is as proud as you, Little One. _She said to Arya._  
><em>

Eragon sighed and pushed his mind toward the hatchling. Sure enough, the dragon was not so much angry as irritated. He pressed images of Arya holding the little green dragon and of her taking care of him. Wyrda stared at Eragon for a moment and then back at Arya before going over to nuzzle her arm.

"What did you do?"

"Showed him you love him. So he knew it was not intentional."

"I am thinking I have more to learn from you than I originally thought." She said with a slight smile. Arya stood. "Welcome, Roran."

Roran stepped forward with a smile. He had managed to keep his face stoically blank previously, but now he stepped forward. "It's good to see you he responded. And you as well." He added to Saphira. "So this is Wyrda?"

Arya nodded. "We are both still learning." She said in a carefully controlled voice, trying to preserve some sense of dignity over the whole scene that had transpired before him.

Alia returned as Roran left. Eragon smiled as she shifted into a human form and then back again into a cat without pause. He wondered if it was intentional of simply a reflection of her thoughts. "Arya, this is Alia. Alia, this is Arya Drottningu."

"It is an honor to meet you, Alia."

The werecat blinked and silently considered Arya, but did not reply. _This is her dragon, Wyrda?_

"Yes." He answered out loud. Arya looked offended, but Alia hadn't seemed to notice. _Alia, why did you not greet Arya? _He asked, wondering what she could hold against her.

_What do you mean?_

Eragon stared at her, and then he smiled. Of course. The werecat knew as little about human and elven customs as he did of theirs. _Among my kind and the elves, it is polite to speak with one who has been introduced to you and acknowledge their presence._

_Oh. _She looked back to Arya. _I am glad to meet you, as well. Like that? _She asked Eragon.

_Yes._

Alia walked over to Saphira and curled up against the inside of her foreleg and Eragon felt from Saphira that they were having a private conversation. He smiled and was glad the two were already becoming friends.

* * *

><p>Eragon sat in his room, in front of the fire, staring at a piece of parchment that had crossed out words and lines everywhere. For the Blood-Oath celebration, he had written a poem, chronicling his journey to that point. A sudden impulse had convinced him to continue, and was nearing the present, but Eragon could not capture the loss of his mentors in words. They would not want to be written. He still had the copy of his poem Oromis had copied and illustrated. The loss was too new. He had not even been able to attend the burial. Sure he had watched it through a mirror with Arya, but it was not the same. He promised mentally that one day he would visit their graves, along with Brom's<p>

He jumped when Alia rubbed her head against his arm. _You are distressed?_

_Yes. _It was no use denying it. _My mentors were killed very recently, and I was close to them. This war had taken too many lives of those dear to me._

She did not respond, but curled against him and laid her head on his leg to look at him.

_You are neither human nor elf. What are you, rider?_

Eragon almost smiled at her, wondering if the werecat could concentrate on anything for longer than a minute. _You are correct. I was a human, but now I do not know. The dragons changed me while I was among the elves. _Eragon decided to take a risk to find out something about his new companion. _Alia, how old are you? _She stared at him and Eragon backtracked. _Never mind. If it is a rude question, you need not answer. It is an impolite question among elves, but not humans._

_It is not rude. You know as little of us as I do of you. That is not an offensive question unless you do not answer as well. You tell me your age and I tell you mine. That is how it works._

_Very well, I am sixteen._

She flashed him a toothy smile. _As am I. _Eragon was shocked by her age. He had known the werecat was young, but he had expected her to be much older than himself. _Are you surprised?_

_Yes. I did not expect you to be so young._

_It is why the king was hesitant to let me go, but he couldn't stop me without going against our laws. It was my choice, rider_

_Why do you call me rider and not by my name? I know you know it._

_It bothers you? _Eragon nodded. _Then I have accomplished what I meant to. You must earn your name from me. _With that, Alia let out a low purr and closed her eyes. Eragon turned back to his work and was glad when the words flowed more easily from his pen.

* * *

><p>Eragon was glad they were wintering in Belatona. For one of the few times since the war had started, Eragon was not being rushed by anything. Neither did ne have to worry about an attack by Thorn and Murtagh. With two grown dragons and a third that was still young, the Varden's chances were looking better than they ever had.<p>

He spent the days teaching Arya how to care for her rapidly growing dragon and working to guide Thorn to understand the difference between justice and revenge. As he had calmly explained it to the confused dragon, justice was killing Galbatorix and revenge was killing every supporter of the empire, willing or unwilling. It was unsurprising that the dragon was so amoral seeing as how his life had begun, but Eragon had to work to instill even some of the most basic concepts, and the dragon always seemed more confused by the end. "Stealing is wrong." Eragon had told him as he sat by the dragon. "But the egg was stolen and you don't think of that as wrong." Eragon had sat silent for a while before coming up with a satisfactory answer. "Yes, but Galbatorix stole it from the riders. I am the leader of the riders. The egg rightfully belonged to me." Thorn had seemed doubtful, but accepted Eragon's word.

Five days had passed since the arrival of the werecats when Nasuada sent him a message. _The elf you sent for is nearly here._

Eragon glanced at Thorn. The dragon was sleeping, oblivious to the dropping temperatures. It might be better that way anyway, to speak with Vanir first. Eragon ran, pausing at the gates only long enough for them to open enough to accommodate his body. Then he ran, scanning the area with his mind to find where the elf was. Eragon felt a shielded mind and ran towards it. He smiled as Vanir raised his fingers to his lips and began the greeting. Eragon completed it and smiled.

"You arrived much more quickly than I expected."

"I was favored with easy travel."

"Thorn is anxious to meet you, but you must be careful with him."

"I admit I am a bit nervous over meeting him."

"He is much better than when he first came to me, but he is still a bit off balanced. With what he has been through, there is little surprise."

"Where is Thorn at now?" He sounded uneasy.

"You will get to meet him soon. He is at my tent, but before you meet him there are some things you should know. I know what you came for was to fight alongside him, but he needs a rider, not just an associate. Thorn had to abandon his rider to Galbatorix's torture. He has suffered through more than most anyone and he is young. He is as large as Saphira, but do not forget he is much younger. He is in fact closer to the age of Arya's dragon than Saphira. I just thought you should know. Be a friend to him. Do your best to guide him in the ways of morality. And do not mention Glaedr. He feels extreme guilt though it was not his fault."

Vanir nodded his appreciation and they ran back to the Varden. They went straight to where Thorn was sleeping. Eragon walked over and touched the dragon, waking him. Thorn shook himself and then stood. Eragon felt the apprehension of the young dragon and he almost seemed to be trying to hide behind Eragon. Then, slowly, he extended his neck and sniffed Vanir. From the look on Vanir's face, Eragon knew they were having a silent exchange. Vanir nodded at the dragon and then looked to Eragon. "We are going flying."

Eragon looked at Vanir, who was going to mount Thorn. "Wait." Both Thorn and Vanir looked at him. "Let me fetch Saphira's old saddle. Vanir is inexperienced." He said to Thorn. Once the ruby-scaled dragon was saddled, he and Vanir catapulted up into the sky.

**Here is why I deserve a review: it is three o'clock in the morning as I finish this and I have to get up at six thirty. Why did I stay up this late? For you guys, my readers. I am going to go away for a few days on vacation and could not leave you that long without updating or telling you in an author's note (which I was deeply against doing to you) so I stayed up late. I'm sure my family will regret my decision more than I will, (I may have a tendency to get a bit irritable) but I wished to finish this. And there it is. Please leave me a review. If you are not going to review because you cannot think of anything to say, tell me your favorite word and I will put the ones I can to use in my story. Please no comments on any horrendous grammar. Remember: late at night, and I did not proofread this. I will edit it soon. Thanks for reading! And who likes our little ADD werecat? She will be developed more later.  
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	16. Time Alone

**A.N. Yeah, I know. This is the longest time without updating. Ever. I do have good excuses (vacation and family) but I will spare you the long tale, apologize (I am sorry) and get on with the story (this chapter is pretty massive for me). But first, I am pleased to say I think we will hit the one hundred mark for reviews in this chapter or the next one. The 100****th**** reviewer will recieve the following chapter in dedication! And now, read and enjoy. This chapter is what happens when I hit writer's block. Beware, you have been warned.**

Eragon walked up behind Arya and looked at the stone she was holding in her hand. It was an ordinary stone, identical to the many others underfoot. She let it tumble from her hand to the ground and looked up at him. "Is something on your mind?"

"It seems as if we have gotten no time alone since we returned to the Varden."

"We have been busy." She agreed. Arya turned to face him. "What did you have in mind?"

"I already asked Nasuada if we all could have the morning off and she agreed. Later we will have to begin you and Vanir's training, but for now there is nothing we are expected to do. Saphira said she would keep an eye on Wyrda, maybe take him to learn to fly better and hunt. If you want to go of course." Eragon flushed. He had assumed she felt the same.

Arya smiled, causing him to smile back boyishly. "Did you have something planned?"

"Maybe just go for a walk outside the city."

"I would love to."

Eragon and Arya had only begun to walk when Alia appeared at Eragon's ankles. Arya looked at him and raised her eyebrows. He sighed. "Alia, would you mind if Arya and I went out alone this time?"

_Why? _She cocked her head, clearly not understanding.

"We have not had time alone for a while."

_Why would you want to be alone? _

Eragon sighed. _Alia, I love Arya. I want to spend some time with her. It is a custom of elves and humans to spend time alone with people you are close too._

She seemed to consider this. _Does she love you?_

_Yes._

_Are you mates?_

Eragon sighed. _No._

_Why?_

He made an exasperated noise. How many times could she possibly use that word? _Alia, if you leave us to ourselves, I promise to honestly answer any two questions you can come up with._

She sat and stared at him. _Three._

Eragon glanced at Arya. _Fine. _He had learned early on that he could bargain answers for favors. She stood and to Eragon's surprise, winked as she departed. Where had she learned that?

Arya looked at him. "I thought she was going to follow us."

"She didn't understand." As they neared the castle gates, Blodhgarm and several others of the guards came up to them. Eragon caught Arya's eyes and in that look they exchanged their exasperation with everyone else. "Blodhgarm, Arya and I will be going out alone."

He shook his head. "It is our duty, Eragon. We will not leave you unprotected."

"I will be fine." He glanced at Arya. "But you must stay back. I will be teaching Arya secrets that belong only to the riders." He lied, but Arya nodded in concordance with his statement.

He frowned and then agreed, looking unhappy about it, but the elves left them.

"I thought we would never be alone." Arya muttered under her breath, but Eragon heard the corners of his mouth twitched upwards.

Neither spoke again until they were outside the city's walls. Outside the guard's sight, they slowed. Eragon's hand accidentally brushed hers and he had to stop himself from taking it.

Arya smiled slightly and took his hand. Ignoring the look of surprise on his face, she continued to walk. "Do you remember the first time we met?"

"Are you referring to the time you attacked my mind or when you trounced me in a duel?" Eragon grinned at her.

"The duel. I was thinking, sometime, you might like a rematch. Later today?"

"You're on."

Eragon bent to pick up a small red flower that had somehow survived the frost. It smelled sweet and the petals were velvety. He considered giving it to Arya but then crushed it in his hand and let the shattered beauty fall to the ground in two pieces. Arya raised her eyebrows. He would not pursue her until she was ready. He ignored the silent question without glancing back at the flower.

"Shall we sit here?" His original intent had been walking, but the small clearing they had stumbled upon was perfect. The trees were tall and old and it touched the edge of a small pond. She glanced around and then nodded. Eragon sat first on a mossy log to prevent himself from having to figure out how close to sit to her, but Arya didn't seem to notice. She sat about a foot apart from him and picked a small stick off the ground, absently peeling off the bark. Neither felt the need to speak at first, but the silence grew heavy and they both felt it.

"Thank you for coming with me. The city was beginning to get oppressive."

He nodded. "Arya, will you answer a question honestly?"

She hesitated and then nodded slowly. "I will."

"Would you still have agreed to spend time with me if you weren't afraid of my death?"

"I don't know, Eragon. That is my honest answer. I… probably not. Don't take it like that, Eragon." He had looked down. "I wouldn't have agreed to this now, but eventually I would have, after the war."

"I appreciate the honesty, Arya. I just wanted to know." The next silence was even longer, but it was not as uncomfortable. Rather, they sat enjoying each other's company.

A twig snapping was all the warning Eragon had. He grabbed Arya's arm and lunged forward, sending them both tumbling to the ground at the same moment a sword swept through where they had just been sitting.

The man let out a low snarl and approached them. Eragon's hand went to his hip and he cursed himself. Why had he left Brisingr at his cabin? Arya pulled a short dagger from her belt and raised it before her. _Saphira! _There was no response and he knew she was beyond reach at the moment.

He lunged at Eragon, leaving himself completely open to Arya's knife and she took the chance and leapt at him, but the blade bounced off powerful wards. She frowned. _Help me break into his mind. _He nodded. He had already noticed the man had strong defenses, but had not tested them.

Together they tried to invade his mind while avoiding his sword. It was better protected than even Varaug's had been. Eragon felt the sword bite into his arm despite his wards and spun away, fighting the sudden pain. He clamped his hand over the wound. It felt deep, as if the sword had hit bone. Pushing the pain away, he looked at it and stared in shock. It was only a scratch. He had cut himself worse working on Garrow's farm. How could it hurt so badly? Eragon shook himself out of his thoughts. Arya was being pushed back. The man had elven speed and strength. Ignoring the searing pain in his arm, Eragon slipped in and kicked him in the knee, hoping to bring him down, but the man barely flinched. He turned towards Eragon but then swiped his sword at Arya without warning. She tried to get back and tripped over the log, the man's sword slicing across her ribs.

Arya screamed in pain as she fell to the ground. The man grinned and raised his sword to finish her. Without thought for his own safety, Eragon slammed into the man with all his weight, knocking him the ground. The sword fell from his hand. Eragon scrambled to get it and held it against the man's neck. The man still did not flinch, but glared at him as if the cold steel was not touching his skin. Eragon sighed. "I would kill you, but you may have information we need." Hating what he was going to do, Eragon plunged the sword into the man's stomach, incapacitating him, but not an immediately fatal wound. He threw the sword down and ran to kneel beside Arya.

She was whimpering quietly from the pain. Eragon cupped her cheek in his hand. "Arya, hold on." Her cries faded somewhat at his touch. Eragon put his hand over the wound. "Waise hael." Nothing happened and Eragon felt a massive drain on his strength. He was left gasping. Eragon stared in shock and grabbed her hand. "It won't heal, Arya. I don't know…"

Eragon saw the rate at which blood was escaping her body and how pale she was becoming. "I'm not going to let you die." He promised. He could bind it with strips from his tunic, but that might not stop it in time. His eyes fell on the water. Maybe. Eragon lifted some of the water and boiled it with magic. He cleaned her wound, doing his best to ignore the agonized cries and then whispered again in the ancient language and the water molded around her body, keeping in her lifeblood. "Arya, hang on. Please."

He knew she would die without help, but Eragon had tried everything he knew. He knew she had one hope. Angela. She had saved them before, maybe she could help again. Eragon tried to lift her, but she nearly screamed again and he couldn't do it. Eragon stroked her cheek with his finger. "Slytha." Knowing she could no longer feel the pain, Eragon gently lifted her and ran to the city.

He ignored the guards who tried to stop him at the gates. One of them pulled back the others. "It's the Shadeslayer."

Arya was getting paler as he reached the castle. He ignored those guards also and ran towards her cabin to set her down. Vanir looked up from Thorn and Eragon swore. How had he forgotten them? "Eragon, what? Arya?" He jumped to his feet and ran over. Both were covered in her blood.

"Get Angela. Now."

He shifted. "Who?"

Eragon yelled to Alia. "I need Angela. She is dying." The werecat ran to the castle without hesitating and Eragon carried Arya to her bed with Vanir behind him.

"What happened, Eragon?" He couldn't respond so he shook his head, becoming dizzy from his failing strength. "Eragon." He felt Vanir's hand and then energy pour into his shaking limbs.

"Thank you." He took Arya's hand and sat next to her, staring into her face. Her skin was damp with sweat and her face was contorted in pain.

Angela burst into the room with Alia and her eyes went wide, but it was nothing with the look on Vanir's face. She looked back at him. "I will not answer any questions now. Eragon, let me see her." Eragon withdrew to the head of the bed and Angela bent over the elf. She reached out her hand to touch the watery bandage and looked at Eragon.

"Why have you not healed her at all?"

Eragon looked up with worry. "The wound would not heal. She was dying. I knew regular bandages wouldn't stop the bleeding fast enough."

"Did you even think how unclean water is before trying this?" Her voice grew scolding.

Eragon met her eyes. "I boiled it first and cleaned the wound."

"Perhaps you are not as much of a blockhead as I thought."

"All I know is that that magic is useless to heal the cut and that it hurts many times more than it should."

"How?"

Eragon turned so they could see his arm. "The swordsman got me first."

Her eyes brightened. "Then I can test things on you?" Eragon did not like the sound of that too much, but if it saved Arya he would do anything. "But first, I will need to see the sword. Vanir, would you take Thorn and find the sword."

Eragon glanced up. "Bring the man back as well. I left him alive to question."

"You blockhead! You didn't kill him?"

"I ran him through the stomach. So I could come back for him."

She only shook her head. Vanir left. Angela looked at Arya. "How long has she been unconscious?"

"I put her to sleep. I couldn't stand seeing her in pain."

"Will you wake her, please?" Eragon woke Arya and immediately she gasped and cried out. "Eragon, could you calm her down."

"I can try." Eragon bent his head to her ear. "Arya, can you hear me?" He heard a pained grunt in reply. Eragon ran his thumb along her cheek. "Try to relax. We are going to help you." She didn't respond, but she quieted. Eragon took her hand in one of his and kept the other on her face. He looked to Angela and she smiled sadly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Just hold in there, Arya." She said softly to the injured elf.

Vanir returned quickly and handed the sword to Angela who took it over to a table and stared at it muttering to herself. Vanir watched her for a while and then looked at Arya. Her eyes were open and fixed on Eragon. "Is she aware?" he asked Eragon.

He nodded and brushed her hair from her face with his fingers. Vanir watched them with a confused expression.

Suddenly, Eragon's quiet was shattered. _Eragon! _Saphira's voice broke in and overwhelmed him, sending him reeling backwards in shock. _What has happened to Arya? Wyrda is hysterical. I can barely keep him from tearing apart the cabin to get to her. _She sent him a picture of her outside the cabin, pinning the struggling young dragon in her claws.

Eragon stood suddenly and touched Arya's arm. "I'll be right back. I promise." He exited the door and Vanir followed. His eyes widened at the little green dragon thrashing and biting at Saphira. Eragon walked over. "Let him go."

_But._

"Do it." Saphira uncertainly released the dragon and he sprang indignantly to his feet. He turned on Eragon and he saw the pain and confusion in the dragon's infant mind. "Wyrda." The dragon stared at him. Eragon stepped forward and crouched in front of him. The dragon was near waist height now and trembling violently. "Arya will be all right. We will save her."

_Arya? _The dragon queried and Eragon stared in shock. He had picked up on talk much faster than Saphira had, though Wyrda had spent much more time around people.

"Yes." He stroked the dragon's neck and tried to soothe him with thoughts. "Do you want to see her, Wyrda?" He cocked his head, trying to understand. Eragon impressed an image of him beside Arya and waited. He sensed a strong desire from the hatchling. "But only under one condition. You must stay calm or you will hurt her." He reinforced his words with images and the dragon flinched at seeing himself hurt her more. "Can you do that?"

_Yes._

"Good." Eragon led the dragon through the door. He was almost too big. Wyrda was about to rush at her when Eragon tapped his shoulder sharply. "Wyrda." He admonished.

The dragon crept over to the bed and nudged her face with his nose. Eragon walked over and sat beside her on the bed. Arya was pale and sweating, but she seemed less restless.

_Arya. _

Her eyes opened to look at her dragon. _Did you speak? _She asked weakly.

_Yes. _He hummed and tucked his head against her arm.

"Eragon, come here." He stood and walked over to Angela. She handed him the sword and pointed to several glyphs on the blade. Eragon read them and grimaced. Together they created a spell, a magical poison. The crude poison increased pain and prevented it from being magically healed. "The blade is also coated with Seithr Oil." He winced.

"What can we do?"

"I don't know, Eragon. She might have to fight this on her own this time." Arya whimpered again and Wyrda pushed at her anxiously. "I can make something to dull her pain and I can treat the wound in a normal way, but she will have to recover on her own." She stood. "I will go and get what I need. Vanir, come and help me carry it."

Eragon stared as she ordered the proud elf. He had never known Vanir to take orders from anyone, but he seemed to obey without thinking and trailed after her.

By the time Angela returned, Arya had fallen into a fitful sleep and kept tossing in her bed. Angela walked over immediately and took a small piece of what looked like rock and slipped it into Arya's mouth, massaging her throat to force her to swallow. Angela examined his water bandage and looked at him. "That really is a rather elegant solution to stop the bleeding." She looked at the wound through it. "Can you pass the spell to me so I can work?"

Eragon muttered a few words and the magic stopped draining him. Angela suddenly paused in her work and looked at Eragon. "Solembum said that Alia said that a messenger said that Nasuada request the presence of the riders. She wished to know the details of the time training would be taking and she has not met Vanir personally yet."

Eragon nodded. "We have to tell her about Arya anyway." He still did not wish to leave. "Vanir, come on." He hadn't followed, but did after Eragon spoke.

As Eragon exited Arya's cabin, trusting her to Angela's care, Eragon and Vanir flew to the courtyard and walked to the meeting room with the dragons watching, Thorn held the swordsman in his claws still. "Where is Arya?" Nasuada asked and then frowned as Eragon looked down. "What happened, Eragon?"

"Arya is badly injured. Angela is with her now."

"How did this happen?"

"We went for a walk. We were talking and a man came at us with a sword. We were foolish and had left our weapons. I don't know how the man was so strong or fast." Eragon sighed. "She lost a lot of blood and the wound cannot be healed by magic."

"Did you kill the man who did this?"

"No, but we have him with us. I am going to break into his mind and question him."

Vanir shook his head. "His walls are like nothing I've seen."

Eragon left and came back with the man and a small bag. He set the man on the ground and looked briefly at the wound. He wasn't bleeding to death, but the wound was serious. Eragon ignored it and touched his mind. There was no way Eragon could break in, but he took the bag and lifted out Vanilor's eldunarí. "What is it?" Vanir asked curiously.

Eragon smiled. "I was going to show you anyway, but you have to keep it a secret. Do you promise?"

"I promise."

"Good. I will explain better later, but some of the dragons live on. Not in their physical bodies, but in these. This is Vanilor. He can help us."

Vanir was staring at it so Eragon continued. _Vanilor._

The dragon seemed to wake. _Yes?_

_I need you to help me break into another's mind. He is too strong for me._

The dragon did not respond, but reached toward the man. Within a minute, he contacted

Eragon, d_o what you wish._

_ Sometime you have to show me how you do that. _

_Yes, and you will have to learn better defenses as well. If you are ever to face Galbatorix, you will need it._

Eragon entered the man's mind, but found it strange and choppy. He followed his thoughts, wondering if it was only because of the pain he was like this, but decided it wasn't. Eragon realized suddenly he could find nothing of the man's past in his mind. No names, no memories. "Vanir, look at this."

Vanir entered the man's mind as well and his brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't understand."

"I don't either." _Saphira? _

_He reminds me of those no-pain-two-legs that Galbatorix has sent against us. His mind is as stilted as theirs are. It is as if his memories have been burned away. It is an abomination!_

_ Another reason to kill him, if he does this to men._

_ All he knows is the drive to kill. Look, Eragon, his only thought is for your death. For Arya's death. And for Nasuada's. He knows nothing else. _He felt her growl through their linked minds and felt the same. The man had nearly killed Arya with his sword and when Eragon had bested him, there was nothing to learn.

Reluctantly, he placed Brisingr on the man's throat. "Eragon!" Nasuada exclaimed, grabbing his arm. "What are you doing?"

Eragon looked up at her and realized she knew nothing about what he had learned. "I am afraid there is nothing we can learn from him. And neither can his wound be healed. It is fatal without magic to heal him and that does not work on injuries from his sword which was the one which dealt this injury. I am simply speeding up the process."

"Fine." Nasuada said. "But can you please not do it here? I would not appreciate having to clean that up."

"I admit I did not consider that. I will take it elsewhere."

"It is appreciated, but not yet. There were other things we needed to discuss. Eragon, what time frame would you put on Arya's recovery?"

"I could not honestly even make a guess. A week, probably two at the earliest and that is if Angela finds some way to help her."

"I will pay her a visit later."

"The gesture would be lost, my lady. Arya is barely conscious and may not even recognize your presence."

"I will still visit, Eragon. Arya has become… a friend over the last few months. Will you not visit because she might not know the difference?"

"I suppose not."

"Now, I had two main reasons to bring you here, the first being to become formally acquainted with you, Vanir. I understand you are to ride Thorn unless somehow Murtagh is freed."

"You have done well by the Varden, Lady Nasuada."

"There is no need to be formal while we are alone. Besides, as a dragon rider, even for a short amount of time, you hold a position around the level of mine."

"If I am not mistaken, Eragon is your vassal. That denotes a subordinate rank. A dragon rider should be below no one." His voice was cold and Eragon suddenly remembered the elves' reverence of dragons and their riders. Of course they had not only been offended that he had bound himself to the Varden. How had he not seen it before?

"Vanir, I _chose _to swear fealty to her. I have committed myself to bringing down Galbatorix and will take any steps that I feel will put me closer. I would not take it back and it does not demean the riders." Nasuada looked grateful for Eragon's defense. "If you must be angry, be angry with me and not her."

"I spoke without understanding. I hope you will pardon my hasty words." Vanir did look a bit repentant, but not much.

"It is past." Nasuada spoke. "There was more to this meeting though. Eragon, I know you will not tell me and nor do I ask for the specifics of what you will be teaching, but I would like to get a time frame as well as one on how quickly Wyrda will grow."

"That can be arranged. I will begin training Vanir on the specifics of fighting from a dragon soon and I do not expect it will take long for him to become competent. Arya's recovery will play a vital role in Wyrda and her training. Saphira is instructing the little one in the mechanics of flight. He will grow quickly. By the end of winter, he will be large enough to fight though I will not have him put where the fighting is strongest until he is older and bigger."

"Thank you, Eragon. You may return to her if you wish."

Eragon nodded and exited the room with Vanir who stopped him. "Eragon, have you developed feelings for Arya?"

"Yes." He continued walking to Saphira, but Vanir stopped him with a brief tap on the shoulder.

"You do realize she is an elven princess, the heir to the throne."

"An heir no longer." Eragon pointed out. "She is a rider first." He met Vanir's eyes.

"And… does she return your affection?" he asked curiously. "It does not seem likely, yet."

"You do realize this is not your business." Eragon snapped.

_Little One. _Saphira chided.

Eragon sighed and saw the wary look Vanir was watching him with. "I am sorry, Vanir. I am worried for her. And yes, she does feel the same. Before you ask, no, we are not mates, and you are not to tell Queen Islanzadí."

Suddenly, Eragon looked at the man they had with them and then at Thorn. _What do you know about ones like this?_

Thorn made a noise similar to a whine and ducked his head. _They are a hobby of his. He twists their minds to make them into mindless puppets. It took him over a hundred tries to perfect the painless ones. The failures were left dead or horribly deranged, their families forgotten._

_And what did he do with the men? _Eragon asked, dreading the answer, but at the same time he wanted to know.

_They often became Shruikan or my dinner. _He said, cowering as if expecting punishment for the crime.

_Thank you for telling me Thorn. I still do not condemn you for what happened under His service. _Eragon avoided the king's name, knowing it upset the red dragon. Eragon mounted Saphira and she took off.

_He ate men. _Saphira spat disgustedly.

Eragon stared at her. True, he had been appalled by it, but Saphira as well? _You have often joked of eating men to bother me. You have not?_

_Of course not. _Eragon considered his dragon. He had not known she joked.

Saphira landed in the gardens and Eragon went into Arya's cabin. He jumped at who he saw was there. Vea. He fought the urge to rush to protect Arya. Who the girl's father was could not be considered any fault of hers. She was simply unfortunate. And she had never even met her father. He didn't know she existed. Eragon suddenly realized he was staring at her. "Um… what are you doing here?"

"Angela is teaching me healing." She said, not quite meeting his eyes.

Eragon accepted her explanation with a nod. He did not question Angela's judgment. He could not understand it, but he trusted it. "How is Arya?"

"Sleeping." Vea shrugged. "We have done nothing as of yet except drug her to spare her some of the pain." Vea finally met his eyes, but her gaze drifted away again quickly. "Your arm." She said. "It will get infected if you leave it like that. I could…" She trailed off.

Eragon glanced at the cut on his arm. It was not terribly deep, but she was right. It was dirty and he had not even cleaned it since it had been inflicted. She was right of course, but did he trust Galbatorix's daughter? Eragon bowed his head. "Very well."

A bright smile lit her face as he accepted her aid and she moved to get the proper materials. Eragon gritted his teeth as she scrubbed away the dried blood and dirt before dressing the wound in clean white bandages. He kept a close eye on her, but she did nothing to prove his trust misplaced. In fact, he noticed her touch was gentle and she avoided causing superfluous pain. As soon as she had finished, he thanked her and pulled a stool next to Arya's cot to watch her sleep, wishing her a swift recovery.

**All right guys, what did you think? I appreciate any review. And this was over 5,000 words!  
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**But I do have one question. What would the winter be like in Belatona do you think? Would it be really mild, like several months and not going below 10 to 20 degrees? My view on winter is skewed compared to other people's I think. I imagine at least five months where the temperature is at or below zero for at least one or two months (the glory of Northern Minnesota) but I know this isn't typical. That is how I imagined the Spine. Any feedback greatly appreciated! **

**And yes, when I cannot think of what to write, I do seriously maim major characters. I find it spurs on the plot most delightfully. And yes, you can pity the characters in my original novel. And **

**SimplySupreme, I fit one of your words in this chapter. Maybe I can fit the others. To everyone else, I am still taking favorite words to be inserted in the story especially for you guys. Will anyone take me up on the offer? Review! If you read this and are still not planning on reviewing, please just click it and tell me your favorite childhood cartoon.**


	17. Friendships

**A.N. This was difficult to write as well. I didn't know where to go with it, only that I needed to set up future chapters. I hope you enjoy it.**

**Um, yeah. I'm reposting this because I did something stupid and forgot. This chapter is dedicated to the amazing Eradon son of Awesomeness. He is a newer reader of my story. This one is for you.**

After the first day, Angela banned Eragon from visiting Arya unless she told him he could. She said he was consuming too much of his time that could be put to better use. _She is awake. _Eragon jumped at Angela's voice in his head and then asked Saphira to land.

_Oh, so you are going to ignore me again to spend time with Arya?_

Eragon rubbed her neck and laughed at the jealousy in Saphira's voice. _If it was you who was injured, I would ignore her. And we were flying for a couple of hours._

_With the red one. _She complained. _Never alone._

_We can go later today. Only us._

_Promise?_

_I promise._

Mollified, Saphira landed outside the cabins and Eragon ran in to find both Angela and Vea inside. It was rare that both were with Arya at one time. "What is wrong?" Eragon asked, getting panicked.

"Nothing's wrong."

Eragon walked over and smiled at Arya. She was propped up on a pile of pillows. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine." She grunted. Her hair was in her face and it looked as if she was… pouting? Eragon stared at her.

"Eragon?" Angela asked, waiting for him to turn.

"Yes?"

"Her wound is not healing. At this rate, winter will be over before she will be ready to fight." He looked at Arya and saw her frown deepen. Of course that would upset her. Angela continued. "I have an idea, but it could prove dangerous if it were to go wrong with her already being weak."

"And you want to test it on me." She nodded. "Alright."

Angela pointed imperiously at a chair and he sat down. She stood too close to be comfortable and watched him without blinking. He raised his eyebrows and she began to unwrap the bandage around Eragon's arm. He glanced down at the wound. It had not started to scab and started to bleed again from the cloth rubbing at it. "The only injury I haven't been able to heal." She muttered. "I'll get it still."

She took out a vial of a thick yellow liquid and held it up for Eragon to see. "This is what I have come up with. It took all of yesterday and this morning to make, including spells more complicated than you know."

"And you're sure that it will not make me worse, or kill me?"

She frowned. "Not entirely, but I think it will help."

"How reassuring."

"Believe it or not, I do not intend to take the life of the head of the free riders."

"Just do it."

She nodded and Vea came to hold his arm down and a cloth to catch any running of her medicine. "Eragon…" Angela shook her head and changed her mind. "Good luck." She decided finally.

"What?" He exclaimed. He felt Saphira's concern as well. She dripped a few drops of the yellow solution on the wound and Eragon jerked his arm away from the girl, knocking her to the ground. The sudden burning pain was worse than the initial injury had been and that had been a painful injury.

Eragon took a few short, ragged breaths and looked up, wiping his mouth. He had bit his tongue. "What was that!" He exclaimed at Angela, trying to ignore the continuing pain. Suddenly, Eragon turned to the girl and offered his other hand. She was still sitting on the floor, holding her bleeding nose. "Sorry." He muttered to her and healed the wound. Then he turned back to Angela.

"Before you try and kill me, may I see if it worked?" The herbalist asked calmly.

Eragon sat back down with a huff and watched her as she placed her hand over the wound. "Waise hael." She murmured and Eragon's eyes widened. The skin began to pull over the wound. Not completely, but there was something. "Not as much as I had hoped, but I suppose anything is helpful." Angela glanced at the elf who had been watching hopefully. "Arya," Angela said cheerily, "your turn."

"Wait." Eragon stood. "Arya, I am going to put you to sleep first."

Anger glinted in her eyes. "I can handle a bit of pain, Eragon. I am not weak."

"Do you enjoy being in pain?" She didn't answer and he frowned. "Do you?"

"No." She muttered.

"I didn't think so. Believe me, Arya." He touched her arm. "Slytha." Her eyes closed.

Angela snorted. "I thought she was going to try and attack you. Now please, out of the way. There." She pointed imperiously at a stool and Eragon sat. Eragon watched patiently as Angela worked on Arya's wound, still covered by a watery bandage. When she sat back, the wound no longer ran, but was scabbed over. They decided to let her sleep and Eragon was once again kicked from the cabin.

A loud screech caused him to jump and look around. _Idiot! _He had stepped on Alia's tail.

"I'm sorry. I didn't see you. I was thinking."

She glared icily at him and then sniffed in a superior way. _Just watch where you are going, rider. If it happens again, I will bite you._

He did not doubt that she would. "Alia. I have never seen you fight. How well do you know to fight?"

She growled again and Eragon was wondering if it would not be better to leave the werecat alone for a while, at least until she was in a better mood. Her form flickered to the young girl's and remained that way. Saphira looked over from where she had been conversing with Thorn. "King Halfpaw says I have a talent. I lack experience, but I will get my share of that. If you wish to spar with me, it wouldn't work very well. My way of fighting would not be good for that."

"And how do you fight?"

"As a cat. My people tend to fight humans in human form, but not I. I can fight well enough."

"I do not want your first major fight to be a large battle. You should have some experience, and I have an idea."

Her eyes shone with curiosity and he watched as she melted back as a cat without breaking eye contact.

"My cousin is going on a short mission to break up where the resistance from taking Belatona has gathered. You could go along."

She nodded her head. _I will go. Watching you obsess over the elf rider grows tiring quickly. When would I leave?_

"Tomorrow morning."

She purred. _I thought being a companion to the leader of the riders would be more interesting._

"And I thought having a werecat around would be exiting or mysterious."

She grinned a fanged smile. _You haven't seen anything yet._

"Neither have you."

_Goodbye, rider._

"Alia, wait." She looked at him and cocked her head. "Will you please just use my name?"

Her eyes flashed. _No. As I said before, you have to earn your name from me. Now, if you don't mind, I have to speak with a friend._

Vanir POV

He was riding a dragon. Him. Vanir. There was a recollection of briefly riding a dragon in his childhood, but not for any amount of time. Of course, he wasn't a rider, but it was still amazing. Thorn circled higher and higher until he drifted past the white clouds, heavy with the snow that was beginning to fall.

_Thorn?_

_Yes? _The dragon's voice was hesitant in speaking with Vanir always. The dragon trusted him because he trusted Eragon. No more.

_Would you mind if we flew a bit lower? I do not have scales like you to keep out the wet and cold._

The dragon didn't reply, but flew a bit lower. Vanir watched the scenery below them. Trees had lost their leaves and the lakes and rivers seemed gray and cold.

Thorn twisted in the air and roared, completely blocking his mind with iron barriers. He had fallen in altitude drastically and was close to the treetops. "Thorn, land!" Vanir shouted and clung to the saddle.

Thorn seemed to come out of his frenzy enough to flare his wings and crash through the bare branches to land trembling on the ground. Vanir dismounted and walked around to look at his face. Thorn's eyes had a haunted cast.

Vanir felt a pang of pity for this mighty dragon before him. If it was not bad enough that his physical growth had been sped, confusing his movement, his mental growth had too. Occasionally, his thoughts were stilted when conveyed to Vanir, and simple thing confused him every so often. "What is it, Thorn?"

Vanir tried to sound compassionate and laid a hand on the dragon's nose. In response, Thorn curled up into as small a ball as he could and let out a quiet whimper. _Murtagh._

The first thought that rushed through Vanir's mind was that the red dragon's rider had been killed, but that didn't make sense. Thorn was upset, but not nearly to the level he would be if his rider was slain. Vanir stared at the dragon for several minutes as he tried to decide what he could do. He didn't want to ask the dragon anything personal. He was still too much of a stranger despite the time they had shared and their talks; they did not know each other.

Vanir sighed, wishing Eragon was there to deal with it. He no longer despised the rider. He had always tried his best, and now he fit the position. He had even grained the strength of an elf. Making a decision, Vanir went and sat against the dragon's curled neck, waiting for Thorn to speak first. The dragon lay unnaturally still. Suddenly, he flinched before managing to force himself motionless again. Vanir found himself absently tracing patterns on the dragon's shimmering scales as he waited.

Slowly the dragon's walls diminished. _Galbatorix is torturing him. I can feel his pain. _The dragon's voice was small and full of grief. _I am his dragon, but I am helpless I should be able to save him, to keep this from happening._

Vanir paused with his hand on the dragon and stood, kneeling before his head. "We will save your rider, Thorn. From what Eragon has told me, Murtagh is strong and enduring. He will last."

_I miss him. _The comment was spoken along with a plaintive whine.

Thorn closed his eyes and Vanir saw a bead of liquid leave one. He reached out his hand and brushed away the tear. Suddenly Vanir was burning with anger and hate. What did you have to do to make a dragon cry? They were the strongest of all. Mighty. Ferocious. But now one wept before him, a testament of the king's evil.

Another steaming drop of water rolled down the dragon's cheek. Vanir leaned forward and lifted the dragon's head into his lap, ignoring the weight that pressed down, putting his leg to sleep. A noise rumbled from the dragon's throat Vanir first took for a growl, but it wasn't menacing. An hour passed before Thorn raised his head and gently nudged Vanir's chest.

_Thank you, elf Vanir. It has been long since I have been around someone who cares about what I feel._

_Among the elves, dragons are the most revered of all beings. What Galbatorix did… He will pay for that with his blood. No matter what. _

The dragon moved his head. _We should probably start if we are to make it back to the Varden. It will be dark when we arrive already._

Vanir caught a snowflake on an upraised palm and watched the fragile structure melt against the heat of his body. _Why don't we stay here, tonight? I will tell Eragon we are alright. It is dark already. We can return to the Varden early tomorrow. _Vanir stood and poured some water into an indent on a rock. "Draumr kopa."

Vanir smiled. He had been right. Eragon was with Arya. He jumped when the mirror shifted and then he went to stand in front of it. "Where are you, Vanir? Are you and Thorn alright?"

"We are a ways away and have decided to stay the night out here. We are fine and will be safe enough."

Eragon didn't look too happy. "Just be careful."

"We will." Vanir broke off the spell and found a flat patch of ground, laying down, shivering against the cold. It was going to be a long night.

_Vanir._

He turned to look at Thorn and saw the dragon had a wing raised slightly. He looked at the dragon and thanked him, walking over and curling up against the dragon's warm side. The wing dropped, shutting him in a blood red light where the full moon shone on him. _Goodnight, Thorn._

_Goodnight._

Arya POV

Arya woke after Angela had tried whatever yellow substance she had concocted on her wound. She felt stiff and she still hurt, but knew it was much better than it otherwise would have been. Angela kept her drugged to keep the pain away. It was the third kind Angela had tried that seemed to work the best. The first had little effect on the pain. The second had made her pain free, but it had also erased her inhibition, giving her the tendency to say whatever came into her head. She had refused to take it again and Angela had provided yet another painkiller. There were no side effects, but it was not perfect at blocking the pain either. Still, it was the best she had tried.

Vea, the king's daughter sat in a chair in the room, feet tucked up underneath her skirts and reading Domia abr Wyrda. Arya didn't move, hoping the girl believed her still sleeping. Arya did not yet trust Angela's helper. Whether people liked to believe it or not, family mattered.

_Wyrda? _Arya sent out a call to her young dragon. They were growing stronger through this, but Arya still woshed she could be with her dragon. It had been decided he did not fit in the cabin, but he would poke his head in to watch her sleep or to talk.

_Arya! _She smiled at the enthusiasm. Her dragon's voice was still high pitched and squeaky. He was still little more than a baby.

_How are you?_

_I am good. I ate today. Saphira took me hunting deer. You should see her hunt! Saphira is an amazing flier._

_Does someone have a little crush on her?_

Despite the fact that it was not actually possible, Arya felt him blush. _She is my master. _He said. _And much older and bigger._

_Hardly six months._

_I do not._

Arya smiled. _As you say._

Just then, Saphira spoke to her. _Little One, what did you say to the hatchling? He completely blocked his mind and won't even look at me._

At that, Arya started laughing. It hurt, but she couldn't help it. _It's nothing, Saphira._

At her laugh, Vea looked up, concerned and slipped a blue feather in to mark her place. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." Arya controlled her laughter and raised a hand to her injury, feeling the now familiar cool bandage Eragon had made. Her thoughts drifted to him. Eragon had annoyed her at first, wanting to spend all his time with her. Worrying about her.

_Just like when he was injured. _Her dragon's voice piped in.

_Get out of my head, Wyrda. I'm thinking. _He withdrew, but he had a point. Arya had slept outside his tent, waiting for him to wake up. She sighed and tried to relax. The low pulsing pain in her chest pushed the thoughts from her head.

_How can you tease me when you feel like that for the rider?_

_I am not denying it to myself. _Arya did have to admit it was dull in her room and it always brightened her mood when he came in. She groaned. If anyone ever heard that… _Could you tell Eragon he should visit._

_Yes._

Arya smiled when the man she loved stepped through the door. _Lovestruck fool. _Her dragon said with a snort. Arya ignored him and looked up at Eragon.

Alia snuck into her companion's room long after midnight and curled up beside the rider's feet. She was leaving on a mission tomorrow. Her first. She was nervous, but not too much. She knew she could hold her own. That night, she dreamt of birds, fat ones with colorful feathers. Of birds so pretty she would have felt bad eating them. Eragon slumbered on, oblivious to her return.

**Please review. Criticism welcome. I know this wasn't my best work, but hopefully it was alright. I had family over and couldn't write. But they are gone now. More updates coming soon.**

**And if you haven't, please read and review my other story The Herbalist? It is Angela's autobiography. How amazing is that?**

**REVIEW!**


	18. Ventures

**A.N. Action. Hope. Suspense. This chapter is a full one. I am kind of proud of this. Enjoy.**

**Please read my other story? At least check it out? Look at the reviews if you don't believe me that you will enjoy it. It's called The Herbalist.**

**Whatever. Quick update. Here you go! **

How was it possible that humans traveled so slowly? Even with the men on horses, Alia was confident she could go to their destination and back to Belatona before the group Eragon's cousin was leading reached it. She ambled over to the burly man that was Eragon's cousin and let out a faint meow.

He jumped and looked down in surprise. Why had Eragon insisted on sending his werecat along? The thing made him nervous. With Angela teaching him, he had grown used to the ever serious and distant Solembum, but the white cat walking beside his horse was too inhuman. He couldn't understand her. And then it went and did something as innocently normal as meow as a cat should. "Yes?" There was no use offending it. Not it, her. No use offending the werecat.

The werecat turned into human form without breaking stride and looked up at him. "You are Roran, Eragon's cousin."

"Yes." What was the intent of that statement? She already knew who he was and it wasn't phrased as a question. He did not understand. "I am."

Roran shivered as she sniffed at the wind. Unnatural. "Your cousin thinks highly of you. You have proven yourself worthy many times over. Few humans can say the same."

"Thank you."

She flashed him a grin with pointed teeth and her form wavered before returning to the form of a human.

"Why do you do that? Changing forms I mean." Roran blurted without thinking.

Alia stared at him for a moment. "Every werecat has a natural form. Mine is the cat. A werecat may not shift until they come of age at sixteen. It is still new to me." Suddenly she growled, the sound seeming strange from the throat of a young girl. "I trust you because Eragon trusts you. You will not share what I have told you. I chose to answer you but the answer is meant only for you. That is our custom."

"I will not tell." Roran said hurriedly and watched her stalk away as a snowy cat. He rubbed the goosebumps on his arms. Why did she make him so nervous? He had bare handedly wrestled a fully grown urgal and taken on nearly two hundred soldiers alone, but she made him nervous.

He watched as the cat batted at the huge snowflakes now falling and sighed. What kind of world had Eragon dragged him into?

Once Angela had allowed for magical healing, Arya gained strength. Eragon walked in after he had eaten to check on her and saw she was sitting on the edge of the bed, talking to Angela. Her chest was bound in heavy white bandages under a leather shirt. The fact that the water dressing was gone was a good sign. It meant she wasn't bleeding as badly. She smiled at him as he entered.

"What is it, Eragon?"

Of course she would notice his bad mood. "My guards. They have been upset with me for 'abandoning reason' and 'sacrificing safety.' As If I hadn't realized not bringing my sword was a mistake. They talked to Islanzadí and she insisted that because you are a rider too, you will be guarded as well."

"Oh."Her smile had faded, but then returned. "Angela says I can walk."

Eragon shot a questioning look at Angela and she shrugged. "She is no longer in danger of dying. Personally, I believe keeping ambulatory patients bedridden does more harm than good." She looked to Arya. "You might as well try now. Eragon, catch her if she looks about to fall."

Arya's brow furrowed at that, but she made no comment and pushed herself to her feet. "Do you feel dizzy, light-headed, pain?"

"Weak, but I am fine."

Eragon looked at her and leaned forward, catching her hand for an instant and transferring a decent about of energy. Her face picked up more color and she stopped shaking. "Thanks." She murmured. "Now, I want to see Wyrda."

Eragon sympathized with her. Wyrda had always been close, true, but there was something about being with your dragon. Angela nodded absently and Arya slowly walked toward the door. She was not healed, but she was finally able to move on her own. Eragon hovered behind her, ready to help if she should fall.

"Eragon?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks for saving me." Her voice was serious.

"Of course, Arya."

"I…" Her words were drowned by the jubilant trumpeting of her young emerald dragon. Wyrda rushed over but stopped a foot away, hesitant to touch her for fear of injuring his partner. Arya laughed musically and took a step forward, encircling the young dragon in her arms. "You are huge, Wyrda."

It had been five days since Arya had seen her dragon. The first day, Wyrda had been able to squeeze through the door to visit Arya, but even after one night, he could no longer squeeze through the entrance. _Eragon says I grow fast. _Arya couldn't help but agree. The dragon's shoulder was now chest height on her.

Eragon smiled. "He does. I think he is large enough to ride, or will be by the time you are fit. He is built quite a bit differently than Saphira. Wyrda, extend your wings." The young dragon complied. His wingspan is longer in comparison to his body then Saphira's and especially Thorn's. He is longer and thinner than either of the others, but he has less height." Eragon tapped the dragon's shoulder and he folded his wings. "He will be fast."

Eragon left the pair to catch up with each other, smiling. Finally it seemed as if everything was on track again.

The group was hushed, creeping toward the camp in the dark before dawn. Suddenly a horn rang out from a tree. They had been spotted.

"Charge!" The call came from Roran and all rushed forward. Alia wove among the men, trying to reach the front. She had lied to Eragon. She had never fought a man before, but she had fought plenty of urgals. They attacked the werecats in the Spine regularly. A man was much the same. Easier.

Men rushed out from the weakly fortified camp and Alia wondered why the rider, her companion, hadn't been sent to do this. But then their group clashed with the other and all thoughts save the need to fight deserted her. Alia ran to the edge and sprang at an unsuspecting man, seizing his sword arm with her sharp teeth. With a cry his weapon fell to the ground and he kicked at the white cat. She hissed and bit the back of his knee, tearing the muscles and sending him tumbling to the ground.

The man was screaming. She tasted blood and her senses increased. She was in a battle. Instinct took over as she took the man's throat in her jaws and tore it out. Leaving the man to finish dying, Alia noted with annoyance that her snowy white fur had been stained with blood.

Alia had an idea. None of the men she fought knew what she was of what she was capable of. She slipped into the confusing mess of fighting man and avoided being stepped on. Alia picked her target, a large man with a mace that was wreaking havoc against those he fought and snuck under his swings. He wasn't watching for a werecat. She attacked and hamstringed this man as well as the first before slipping off, leaving him on the ground for the Varden's men to finish.

She worked her way through the group, crippling the soldiers for her group to take care of. She looked for Roran. The rider had asked her to take care of his cousin, not that he couldn't take care of himself, but because he was family. Alia understood the will to protect family. And becoming his companion, she had a duty to protect him and his, too.

Alia saw him, separated from the group, injured in the left shoulder and fighting off three men. She noted that he was handling three on one well, but he was losing. With a snarl, she bounded toward the group. One of the men he was fighting saw the werecat coming.

"Careful. The demon is coming over here." Their eyes flicked to Alia for a second before returning to the fight.

"Alia." She heard Roran breath with a smile. She leapt into the fray and tried to strike at the men's legs, but did not have the element of surprise any longer. And she had no way to protect herself against the steel the men carried. She hissed and leapt back to avoid a vicious swing of a sword at her body.

Roran took advantage of the man's low swing to land a blow with a hammer to his collarbone, crushing the life from him. Alia managed to swipe at a man's leg with her needle sharp claws and gave him a limp. She noted without caring that they were they only ones still fighting. Men were rushing to their aid.

Just a little longer and then… Alia saw an attack Roran had not. The man she had injured had raised his sword to attack Roran, but he was engaged with the other. Snarling, Alia sprang at the arm and saved Roran only to feel a dagger slip into her body. It had been a trap. She tumbled to the ground and landed with a whimper, blood seeping into the ground.

In a sudden burst of strength from his anger, Roran dispatched both men and knelt beside the werecat. Had she not seen the trap, the dagger in his other hand? The man had known he was dead, he only wished to take out the one that had done so much damage. Roran looked down at Alia. Her sides were heaving and her fur was no longer white but crimson.

He gently lifted the werecat into his lap. She was limp. Roran stroked the young werecats fur. She had saved his life. "Carn!" Roran shouted and the magician came to the front of the group that had gathered. "Can you heal her?"

Carn looked at the werecat and brought his eyes to meet Roran's. "This… I cannot heal this, Roran."

Roran gazed down and stroked the werecat's wet fur. Her eyes were open and filled with fear and pain, staring at him. He clenched his fist. He could not let this happen. Roran looked up at Carn. "I'm going to try. She doesn't even know me and she sacrificed herself. I can't live with that debt."

"Roran, no. Even if you could, it would take too much energy. And you have not even healed before."

The young werecat was whining quietly and Roran made up his mind. He knew the basic words. Angela had been teaching him to change words. He had been able to do so much with Risa. Roran gathered his concentration. "Waise hael."

Roran watched as the wound began to knit together slowly. It sealed and the blood stopped leaving her. Roran felt the steady drain on his strength. He looked at the wound. It was not half healed and his energy was already fading. Roran tried to break off the spell, but he couldn't. Roran's eyes went wide and he looked up and met Carn's eyes. They were sad.

Roran glanced back down at the werecat to see the last marks of her injury fade. As the final remnants of his energy left him, he saw the white cat raise her head and stretch. His thoughts and vision faded to nothing and Roran collapsed against the cool dirt.

Eragon lifted the saddle he had made for Wyrda and set it on his back. It was large, but he would grow into it. Saphira had the hard molded saddle and her old one had been given to Thorn. Besides, Eragon knew that neither of those saddles would have fit the young dragon remarkably well. He was still surprised at how differently the three dragons were built. Thorn was heavy in muscle and stocky. His neck and tail were thick and short. Saphira was perfectly proportioned for a dragon and designed to be in the air. Her wings were long and full and her tail long as well. Everything about Wyrda seemed stretched. His neck and tail were long and his body elongated. His appearance almost made Eragon think of a snake. It was obvious the dragon would be fast.

Eragon tightened the buckles around Wyrda's chest and smiled as he felt the dragon's excitement. "Arya, come here." She walked over, wearing her customary black leather. Her color was finally normal and she no longer winced when she turned suddenly or bent. Arya climbed onto Wyrda's back and looked down at Eragon.

"Are you sure he is big enough?"

Eragon nodded. "Not for extended flights, but for short ones he will be fine. His long flights with Saphira have built his endurance." Eragon saw the dragon's eyes on him. _Wyrda, if anything feels wrong or if you become tired land immediately. It is still early and you have the winter to learn. _He blocked his last words from Arya. _She is still injured. Be careful._

Wyrda bobbed his head. Eragon mounted Saphira and Vanir waited on Thorn. His mind, joined with Saphira's conveyed excitement and enthusiasm. A dragon's first flight with his rider was important. It cemented their relationship. In old times, there would have been a ceremony and gifts, music, and food. But in a war that was not possible. And there were only three dragons and two riders.

Thorn launched himself into the air and Saphira followed. They circled effortlessly above and waited. Wyrda spread his wings and flexed them several times. Crouching, he beat his wings and launched off the ground. He flapped his wings, straining to get air. Saphira roared as he rose above the walls and into the air. Wyrda's treble voice joined hers and Thorn bellowed support of the youngling.

Arya felt herself let out a breath as her dragon managed to lift off the ground. A surge of excitement partially hers and partially Wyrda's rose and she laughed, urging her dragon higher. _Follow me. _Saphira's voice reached them and she angled out toward Lake Leona.

_Are you sure I'm not too heavy for you? _Arya asked, feeling the effort it took to pound with his wings against the wind.

_No. I'm fine. _She felt a strange feeling for her dragon and had barely recognized it as mischievousness before Wyrda corkscrewed once, causing her to grip the saddle tightly. He over corrected his balance slightly and dipped sideways losing a bit of altitude. As he righted himself, Arya laughed in exhilaration until an angry roar from the blue dragon reached her ears.

Saphira spun and flew before the young dragon, holding her place in the air. Wyrda stopped to hover before her and seemed almost to cower. _You fool. _She hissed. _You can barely do that without a rider. What possessed you to try with her?_

_It was very irresponsible. You almost went down. _Eragon added. _You blatantly disregarded Saphira's orders not to try anything special._

By then, Arya could feel her dragon's shame and tell he wished he was anywhere but here. His first flight with her was marred. _Let him be. _She told the pair, trying to sooth Wyrda at the same time. _He is little more than a child still. Saphira, you were probably like this too when you were his age._

_No, I was not. I understood my responsibility and took care of Eragon and he took care of me. We are in the middle of a war. There is no room for careless mistakes and injuries. Wyrda seems to realize the severity of what could have happened. Why don't we turn back? We can go again tomorrow._

Arya sighed and Wyrda agreed quickly, trying to appease his master. They landed in the gardens and Arya dismounted, removing the saddle and bringing it to the storage shed where Eragon kept them. Eragon was doing the same, but Vanir and Thorn had decided to continue flying.

"I still think she is being a little harsh, Eragon. Wyrda was just exited."

He looked up at her. "I know. He just needs to understand that actions have consequences. I have noticed that he tends to be a bit impulsive. And Saphira did tell him expressly that he was not to do anything but fly straight. It was as much his putting himself and you in danger as ignoring her that has her upset. Are you listening to them?"

She shook her head. "Wyrda is blocking me. He tends to do that when he is upset." Arya allowed Eragon to touch her mind and share through Saphira the dragons' conversation.

Wyrda was standing before her with his head down. _I'm sorry, ebrethil. I didn't think._

_Not thinking almost got you and your rider killed. Is that really an excuse?_

Wyrda whined slightly. _I will listen next time, I promise._

Saphira considered the trembling and upset dragon before nudging his side. _See that you do. When I think you are ready to do aerobatics with Arya, I will teach you. It changes your balance slightly. _She sniffed. _Rest your wings. We will try flying again tomorrow._

_Thank you. _Wyrda stumbled to Arya's cabin and lay down against the wall. Arya went over to talk with him and Eragon smiled. Everything was fine now. And perhaps Wyrda would think more before he acted.

Alia stretched and noted she had been healed. Blinking several times, she found herself being lifted by someone. Alia hissed and twisted, and the hand dropped her. Who had healed her? Had she managed to live long enough to see Eragon? Alia glanced around and saw a group of men, crowded around something. She walked forward and the men parted.

Her eyes fell on a body on the ground. Was that…? No! Roran. She had told Eragon she would protect him. Alia ran over and nudged his face with her moist nose. "He is gone. He died to bring you back because you had done the same." The weary looking magician informed her.

No. Alia pushed at his head and it lolled to the side. Alia growled low in her throat. _I will not allow this to happen. _She said to the men.

Alia sniffed at Eragon's cousin and concentrated. If it hadn't been too long… Her father had told her on no account to try, but it no longer mattered. She had never broken a promise. Alia crawled onto his chest and stared into his impassive face.

Alia reached for that part of her that allowed her to transform. Instinct took over as she closed her eyes to focus. There was a collective gasp from the men and Alia opened an eye. Roran and she were glowing. That was not important. A human magician could make things glow. She lost herself in the magic, not knowing or understanding what she was trying to do.

It was over. Alia released the magic and they stopped glowing. She opened her eyes and nothing had changed. His wounds were healed, but he still lay immobile.

Suddenly, she rose as his chest expanded and he breathed. It had worked? The men started muttering and several cheered. Roran rolled over and Alia leapt off his chest. The magician was openly staring. "It is one of the rules of magic. You can't raise the dead."

Alia looked up. _You know that isn't entirely true. Have any of you seen someone pulled from the water, drowned? They are not breathing, they have no pulse, but sometimes it is possible to bring them back._

Roran had pushed himself into a sitting position and still looked dazed. "I have seen it before. A child from our village drowned. Gertrude pressed the water from him and breathed for him. He came back."

Alia nodded. _The soul remains with the body for several minutes before departing forever to the void. If you can reach them before that, they can be saved. _She climbed into Roran's lap and closed her eyes. _It is foolish to bring back someone who has been killed in certain ways. When someone is dead, it is usually for a reason. If you raise someone who died from losing blood, they will only die again. _With that, Alia gave into her exhaustion and fell asleep.

All the men were staring at Roran in awe as if he were someone entirely different. Roran stood. "Well, let's finish up here and return. We have eliminated the resistance."

Roran rode Snowfire, carrying the exhausted werecat along with him. At some point she woke and Roran smiled as she blinked up at him. Alia proceeded to lick her fur clean, removing the blood congealing her hair in mats. She noticed him watching her and glanced up. _Thank you for my life._

_And you as well. _She purred back, pausing in her grooming to licking his hand.

Eragon received a note from Nasuada and opened it to see her tidy handwriting covering it. _Eragon, King Orik and the dwarves are only two days away. I think it would be good if you and Saphira went to provide an escort. Orik is entirely for our cause, but not all the dwarves feel the same as you know. We will need to make every attempt to win them over. I am not ordering you to do this, but I feel it would be a good move. Send your reply back with the messenger._

Eragon wrote that he would leave immediately and went to resaddle Saphira, explaining where he was going. Saphira instructed Thorn on what she wanted Wyrda to practice and they flew off to the east to meet the dwarves.

**Who thought I killed Alia? Who thought I killed Roran? Ha! Not this time, but who knows what will happen in a war? Not you, but perhaps I do!**

**I felt as if Alia was starting to seem suspiciously like a sue but attempted to fix that in this chapter. If she does seem like that, I want to be told. Anyway, so werecats have magic and Alia can hold her own in battle. What did people think of this chapter? I liked it, but that doesn't matter.**

**Countdown to school: seven days. Where did summer go? And then winter is coming to try and freeze us all. Homework. Torture. Waking up early. Tests. But then summer again. And then it happens again. Summer slips away. It's a vicious cycle. Anyway…**

**Please review.**


	19. Catching Up

**A.N. Not an actiony (My computer autocorrected that back to action. I hate it when it does things like that. I **_**know **_**actiony, it did it again, isn't a word, but I intended to use it.) chapter, but it should, hopefully, be interesting. Decent length. Read and enjoy!**

Saphira glided lazily on the cool air currents. A cold front was pushing down from the north. The night before it had snowed and the snow hadn't immediately melted upon touching the ground, but it was gone now. The afternoon sun still held the power to melt the thin dusting of snow, though that wasn't going to last much longer.

They flew, enjoying the time alone. Lately they had not been able to spend time apart from others. Training Wryda and Arya took time, and Thorn seemed to stay near Eragon. The red dragon was always at the corner of his vision. Lately he had seemed to be more relaxed around Vanir, but he still followed Eragon around.

_He is unsure what is expected of him. _Saphira broke into his thoughts.

_What do you mean?_

_His whole like he has been a slave, expected to jump to fulfill Galbatorix's every whim. He swore himself to you, refers to you as his master. _She was caught by a cold air draft, lifting her higher into the air. _You have taken the place of Galbatorix to him_

Eragon felt sick suddenly as the behavior of the red dragon suddenly all came together. The waiting near him and following him around… Thorn was awaiting orders. He still thought of himself as a slave. _Why didn't you tell me? _He demanded of Saphira.

_Thorn only knows life as a slave. It is… unnatural for a dragon, but he is happy for once in his life. He wouldn't know what to do with freedom._

_He _is_ free._

He felt sadness emanating from Saphira. _Thorn will never be free as long as Murtagh serves Galbatorix._

_That is not what I meant._

_I know, Little One. If it bothers you so much, speak with Thorn. _Eragon nodded. He would have to speak with Thorn. Slavery disgusted Eragon more than anything else. The very thought of _owning _another sentient being was revolting. The fact that Thorn believed himself a slave to Eragon made him angry. How had he let this happen?

_Eragon._

_Thank you, Saphira. _He said as she drew his mind away from the troubling quandary that was the blood red dragon.

They flew on without speaking until Eragon saw a large number of men –dwarves– marching. Saphira trumpeted a greeting and circled down toward the army. She landed apart from the dwarves and Eragon slid down her side to wait. Sure enough, within a few minutes, a group of Dwarves rode out toward them. They stopped and the guard stood back to reveal Orik.

Orik raised a hand and spoke something in dwarfish and the guards departed, standing a good ways off from their king and the dragon rider. "Eragon." He greeted warmly. "Nasuada said you would likely be coming."

"Your majesty." Eragon returned with a slight inclination of his head.

Orik looked Eragon in the eyes and his smile grew somewhat strained. "Please, _Eragon_," He put sarcastic emphasis on the title, "we have been over this before. We are friends and foster brothers. Refer to me not by my title."

"As you wish." Eragon said and then smiled. "How are you Orik?"

A bit of tension seemed to leave the dwarves shoulders. "Things are not boring." He grunted. "Personally, I am well. I…" He broke off. "How about we have a long conversation as soon as the army stops for the evening? It will only be another hour or so and then we shall not be disturbed."

"That sounds great." Eragon said. As he looked at Saphira, he frowned suddenly. "Orik, what do the dwarves feel about Thorn?"

Orik's frown was partially obscured by his beard. "Thorn is a traitor."

"Thorn is barely an adult and he is innocent." Eragon said, trying to sway the king. "I will swear his loyalty in the Ancient Language."

"They killed Hrothgar, Eragon." A hollow tone came into his voice and he looked away.

"_Murtagh _killed Hrothgar, Orik. Thorn is innocent." Eragon did not feel right putting the blame entirely on his half-brother when, for all he knew, it could have been Thorn's suggestion, but Thorn was an ally and Murtagh the enemy.

Orik looked up. "You should not have to worry too much. Most of the dwarves believe dragons are beasts of an intelligence comparable to a horse's. They will blame him no more than they would blame an enemy's mount." An angry growl rippled from Saphira's throat and a small flame escaped her.

"Saphira." Eragon warned and she shook her head.

_Comparable to a horse? _She asked irately and slew a puff of smoke.

Eragon put his hand on her side. _I understand, but it does not matter what they think. In fact, it is good they think that at the moment._

_And how would you feel if someone believed you as stupid as a beast?_

Eragon couldn't help a smile. _Actually, I believe several people do. Primarily Angela, but still..._

In spite of her anger, Saphira chuckled. Eragon glanced up at Orik who looked out of place. "Sorry." Eragon apologized as he realized they had been excluding him.

"No matter."

A younger looking dwarf ran up and bowed before Orik. He proceeded to relay a message and then bowed again to Orik, added a bow to Eragon as a second thought and departed.

Orik sighed. "There is a matter I must attend to. I will expect you in my tent later to catch up on recent events." He turned and rejoined his guards. Eragon and Saphira watched as they returned to the other dwarves.

* * *

><p>Alia's tail flicked restlessly as they returned to the Varden. It seemed the trip back was worse than the trip to the encampment. There was no anticipation, no planning. There was only the seemingly endless trek across the wind ravaged land. And then there was the tightness in her side. She suspected Roran had not quite healed her properly with his lack of experience, but she did not complain. He <em>had <em>saved her life. Still, Alia resolved to ask Eragon to check it for her when she returned.

It was aching again, making the walk seem even longer. She assumed the traveling was so bad because she knew she could get there much faster. And they were not moving fast. There were a couple men who had been injured severely enough that they couldn't ride a horse so several wagons trailed behind them.

As she padded her way over to Roran, who had looked back to see where she was, a butterfly, one of the last of the year, fluttered in front of her and she leapt, missing. She hissed and swatted at it, her claws tearing through the insect's fragile wings.

Alia stared at it until it quit moving and then continued walking over to Roran, licking her paw once to clean it off. She leapt to the horse's back and curled up on Roran's lap. Knowing he was staring, she lazily opened an eye. _Well?_

"Well what?"

_Why are you looking at me like that?_

Roran seemed surprised and then sighed. "For what reason did you kill that butterfly?"

_Because I could. _Alia said, stating it as if it was obvious.

"But why take its life."

_It was only an insect._

Roran would not have been able to explain his feelings then if he had wanted too. "Still, Alia."

She opened her other eye and looked up at him. _Why does the life of one butterfly affect anything? Anyway, it is late in the year. The cold would have killed it within days._

He still didn't like it. Then he froze as he realized he was feeling the exact way he had teased his cousin for feeling. Roran fell quiet, thinking, trying to figure out why he felt so different about the butterfly than he did deer or cattle. Then he realized the difference. The animals provided food and resources. Alia had killed for the joy of it.

With a shudder he realized that werecats had the potential to become riders. Werecats like her. Werecats that killed in Alia's own words, 'because I could.' When would it be not butterflies but people? He really needed to talk to Eragon. He would understand.

* * *

><p>Eragon found himself sitting in a comfortable chair beside a table. The dwarves had not planned on accommodating Saphira and the tents had been too close so she had decided to go hunting. Eragon had promised he would tell her everything when she returned.<p>

Orik returned with two tankards of mead and sat across from the table from Eragon. Eragon smiled as he took one of the drinks from Orik. One did not drink much when in the company of elves. Neither spoke for a while. Soon though, Eragon grew impatient of the silence. "Well, I assume you know at least the basics of what has happened with me, but what is going on with the dwarves? And Hvedra?"

"Things could be going smoother, but it is not too bad. I have earned all the clans' support for aiding the Varden except for Az Sweldn rak Anhuin, but that was expected. They have renounced Vermund though it took two weeks. Still, Az Sweldn rak Anhuin refuses to send dwarves to fight, but they at least have agreed to supply the dwarves that are fighting." Orik paused to take a long quaff from his tankard. "Hvedra, of course, is managing mine clan from Bregan Hold. She is… pregnant." Orik added with a frown.

"Congratulations, Orik." Orik shook his head and took another drink of mead.

"We didn't want to have a child yet, Eragon. What happens if we do lose this war?"

Eragon sighed. "We will win, Orik."

"And what makes you so sure? Could you and Saphira best the king now?"

"No." Eragon admitted. "But we have two more dragons to help. Thorn is larger than Saphira and Wyrda is of riding size."

"Still." Orik got up to refill his drink and returned. He began asking Eragon about more personal matters. The discussion continued until late at night.

* * *

><p>The gates opened immediately to allow Roran and the men in his command through. He shifted uncomfortably as everyone's eyes were on them.<p>

_Relax._ The snowy werecat said, strolling beside Snowfire as if she did not care how many people were looking at her. He smiled slightly. He was sure she didn't care in the least. _It's not as if you are coming back from a mission gone horribly wrong. There were few casualties and you only failed to bring two men back alive. It was a success._

"I suppose so."

After dismissing his men, Roran went up to the castle to relay the events to Nasuada. He was let in to her room. They made an effort to stop the werecat, but she ignored them completely and walked between their legs following Roran. One of the men looked as if he was about to do something about it, but Roran shook his head and the man dropped it.

"My lady." Roran inclined his head slightly toward Nasuada, but did not bow.

"Roran Stronghammer." Nasuada looked at the werecat. "Have you decided to accompany Roran?" He realized suddenly that Alia and Nasuada may not have been introduced.

Alia glanced up. _No. _She sat and began to lick a paw.

"This is Alia. She is the werecat that has chosen to accompany Eragon."

"Ah." She stared intently at Alia for another minute before returning her gave to Roran. "And how went your mission."

Roran straightened his back. "We fought and killed every man who came out at us, but did not injure the others. We gathered all who did not fight, including the women and children, and brought them here to be placed under your command. Two men under my command were killed and there were twelve casualties, only four major."

Nasuada nodded and smiled slightly, shoulders lowering as she lost some of the tension. "You may go. Angela asked me to send you to her as soon as you arrived."

Roran turned to the door and then paused. "My lady?" She nodded for him to continue. "Are Eragon and Saphira here? I did not see them among the others in the gardens."

"Eragon will return in several days. He left to accompany the dwarves to here in Belatona."

"Thank you."

As he left for where Angela was staying, Roran grew nervous. He had used magic which was beyond his level. Which had killed him. He wouldn't even be here if the werecat at his feet hadn't saved him. Roran paused with his hand on the door before it swung open to reveal Angela.

She was dressed in bright green clothing that made her hazel eyes seem almost golden. "Welcome back." She greeted him gesturing for him to come in. Roran was surprised as his eyes fell upon a second chair in the room. He raised his eyebrows at her.

Angela shrugged. "I was not used to having visitors when I first began teaching you, but you come regularly. I thought you might prefer not to sit on the ground all the time."

"Thank you." At her request, they both sat down and Roran begin to tell her of what had happened, not leaving out any details. At some point, Alia leapt onto his lap as Solembum had Angela's and curled into a ball. When he began telling about the magic, Angela looked at him intently and her frown was indecipherable. Then she burst.

"You did what!" She stood. Roran flinched and looked down. "You complete blockhead! Impetuous idle-headed lout! What were you thinking?" He stared at his feet to try and hide from the barrage of insults she began to hurl at him.

"She would have died for me."

Alia looked up. _Everything did turn out well. _She commented. _And I would have died. Do you really count it as wrong with what came of it?_

Angela sighed and sat down, putting her head in her hands. "You are a dim-witted utter fool." She mumbled halfheartedly. "I should have expected this when I agreed to teach Eragon's cousin. Where did you even learn the words to use that spell? I was keeping you ignorant for this very reason."

"Eragon." Roran admitted. "He has healed me more than once. I remembered."

She sighed again. "Why is everything so difficult with your family? Very well. If you feel like you are ahead of my lessons, there is nothing to do but make them harder."

By the time Roran left, he was exhausted and had been pushed far beyond his ability. Alia remained with Angela. Once Roran had left, she stretched, wincing. _Eragon is not with the Varden. _She stated.

_And?_

_Roran did not heal me quite as well as he believed. My side is stiff and aches still. Could you?_

Angela nodded and then knelt on the ground, gesturing for the werecat to come over. Alia lay down and Angela probed the wound with magic. _It seems he left a sort of scar when he healed you. Easily fixed. _Angela muttered a phrase in the ancient language and Alia couldn't help squirm under the unpleasant sensation. But as soon as it started, it finished, and Alia began to purr as the herbalist scratched her behind the ears.

* * *

><p>Eragon walked alongside Orik's pony as the dwarven army marched. Saphira had landed to walk alongside them. Not for the first time, Eragon was frustrated with the pace that armies seemed to move at. Saphira seemed to feel the same way. She had resorted to challenging them with riddled=s and expecting them to supply her with them as well.<p>

_Can we please stop this, Saphira? _Eragon asked as she gave him yet another riddle he would never figure out.

She huffed. _What else is there to do, Eragon?_

_Anything but riddles._

She fell silent for a while. _Orik was right about what he said last night. We are not strong enough to defeat Galbatorix and Shruikan. Even with Thorn and Wyrda, Galbatorix fought hundreds of riders much older than any of us._

_But what can we do about that?_

_Nothing. _Eragon said dourly. _We are leading everyone to their doom on the false hope that we will overpower the king and free them all. We know how he has his power, but we are no closer to finding a way to separate him from the eldunarí if that is even possible. We don't know what the Vault of Souls is either. Or where it is._

_You have not tried remarkably hard to discover where or what it is. Maybe if you start to ask around… _She trailed off sounding doubtful. _Solumbum's words about the Menoa tree only made sense when they were necessary._

_I agree, but maybe I should ask under the pretense of hearing the name a while ago. What do you think? _Without pause, Eragon turned to Orik. "You wouldn't happen to know where or what the rock of Kuthian is, would you?" Saphira snorted loudly in amusement, the emotions spilling over causing the corners of Eragon's lips to twitch upward as well.

"What?" Orik stared at him and Saphira began to chuckle. "Are you planning on searching for it? I mean, if the story was true it would make sense, but it is a legend told to children."

Eragon stared, his amusement changing to surprise. "But you do know something? Please, share this story with me."

Orik broke into a grin. "Why are you so interested?"

His mouth opened and then he clamped it shut. He was not going to tell the truth. It would only get him laughed at. "Just tell the story. It may be important."

"As you wish." He said with a mocking bow and Eragon flushed. He had just been giving commands to the dwarf king. "It is supposed to be somewhere within the Caverns of the Wind, south of Uru'baen. The legend is in the form of a poem in dwarfish, but I will just translate the story. Forgive me if it sounds a bit choppy." He took a breath and began. "Once upon a time,"

_In a land far, far away. _Saphira added and could barely contain her amusement at the start. Eragon sighed. Of course it was one on those stories.

_Shut up, Saphira._

"Once upon a time, a dwarfish princess named Kuthian, the daughter of the king, found herself in the middle of a great war. Her father and a man who wished to be her husband got into an argument over whether she would marry him. It came down to war and the princess grew more upset as men died for her, especially when she could not have choosen between her father and the suitor. Upset, she fled to the mountains and lived there for awhile. She was curious about everything and for years lived, trying to find the answers to her questions. By chance, as she was traveling, she was forced to take shelter from a spring storm in some caverns. She never meant to stay, but was drawn by the mystery of the winding passages. Eventually, she stumbled upon a column of black diamond. A spirit appeared and granted her a wish. She emerged from the cave with power and was like the gods. Since then, the column has been known as the rock of Kuthian."

Orik looked at Eragon who was frowning. "Now, if you don't mind telling me, why?"

Eragon shook his head. "Nevermind." He climbed onto Saphira and they circled above the dwarves. _At least we know something._

_Yes, we have discovered a new bedtime story. And not even a good one._

_Knock it off, Saphira. This is important. And in every legend there is a grain of truth. Though what it is in this particular story… Well, anyway, we have a location._

_But we cannot go there. It is practically in Uru'baen and we would be offering ourselves to Galbatorix on a silver platter. Besides, Solombum said that you should go there when 'all seems lost.' _

_I suppose you are right. We can see if Alia knows anything about it when we get back._

_Knows or will tell us?_

Eragon ignored Saphira's last comment and pulled his cloak tighter against the winter air.

**The Rock of Kuthian sounded like a dwarvish name to me so I decided on this explanation from my two. The other involved Tenga, but that didn't feel right. Don't worry about the part in the story 'was like the gods.' I do not intend on giving Eragon a ton of power or anything like that. It is a children's legend. But any thoughts on it?**

**I had fun trying to create insults that I could imagine coming from Angela. But what did you guys think? Did they make sense?**

**I apologize if Orik is a bit OOC. I honestly could not remember much about him and I did not have access to the books. Also, any misspellings/confusion over the names would be part of that. I'll look it over when I get the chance. Sorry 'bout that.**

**I expect lots of reviews with school starting in two days! And there might be a bit of a break as I try to find out how much time homework and studying will take this year, but I will try to keep with the regular updates.**

**Please review. Advice or criticism is highly appreciated, but I like seeing any review over none.**


	20. A Shadow

**A.N. Today it was almost ninety degrees, but in a few days it is expected to drop down into the twenties. Well, summer was nice while it lasted. In no time it will be coat weather, but I hope not for a few weeks yet. **

**Here is my chapter. I should be updating my other story in a day or too if all goes well with the writing. Read and review please! **

A fanfare of trumpets hailed the dwarven army as it reached the gates of Belatona and the gates were swung wide to accommodate the army as they marched in. Men and women crowded along the edges of the streets as they watched the dwarves file past. New hope dawned on their faces as the size of their army doubled.

Saphira walked in the front and Eragon to her right, marching alongside King Orik. At the entrance to the castle, Nasuada, surrounded by six of her Nighthawks, waited to meet them. Eragon watched as she met Orik's eyes and a small smile came across her face. Then she stepped forward. "Hail King Orik."

He seemed to be smiling as well though it was hard to tell as his mouth was obscured by his beard. "Lady Nasuada." He returned, nodding slightly to her. Orik turned and dismissed his men to assigned lodgings before walking forward to Nasuada.

She seemed to study him closely before sighing. "Shall we go to my meeting room? Eragon, Saphira, you as well."

They walked toward the castle and Eragon was hardly surprised when Alia fell into step alongside him. He smiled. _I am glad to see you have returned safely._

_I can take care of myself, rider._

Eragon laughed, drawing strange looks from his companions, but he ignored them. _I take it the mission was successful?_

_You could say that. Your cousin is well._

"Eragon!" Nasuada's voice snapped him alert. "Were you even listening?"

"No. I apologize, my lady. I was speaking with Alia and did not realize you were addressing me. What were you saying?"

"Orik and I will meet later instead. He thinks he should oversee his men and our meeting is not urgent."

"Oh."

"I'll send for you later, after dinner perhaps."

Eragon nodded to her and then leapt to Saphira's back, waving for the werecat to leap up as she watched, twitching her tail in a way that made Eragon suspect she was irritated. She immediately leapt up and curled on his lap. _You haven't had a real flight, have you? _It was a rhetorical question, but he sensed her excitement. _But you must not claw me as you did the first time we flew._

_And how am I to hold on without hands. I prefer this form. _She made a muted meow that he had come to realize as similar to Saphira's growling laugh. _I do not believe I have overestimated your power so much that you are actually unable to create a simple ward. Or are you that weak?_

_Fine. _Eragon cast wards and she dug her claws into his clothes as Saphira launched herself into the air. Limiting his words to Saphira, Eragon stared at the snowy werecat as he spoke. _She really can be infuriating sometimes. _

Saphira chuckled._ And you let yourself be bothered too easily. If you didn't react so well to her goading, it wouldn't be nearly as fun for her._

Eragon huffed and didn't respond to her comment, but changed the subject. He grinned slightly. _Shall we give her a ride she will never forget?_ In response, Saphira tucked her wings and tumbled toward the ground.

* * *

><p>As they jumped from Saphira's back, Eragon began to laugh. Saphira caught his amusement and saw the cause through their bond and began to laugh as well. Alia sat and stared at them suspiciously. <em>What is so funny? <em>She demanded.

Fighting a grin, Eragon relayed to her an image of herself. Her shaggy white hair was windswept and messy, looking as if she had just woken up from sleeping through a tornado.

_Very mature. _She said with a faint growl and immediately began to groom herself, much to Eragon and Saphira's amusement. She ignored them and finished grooming. _I will see you later._

_Wait, where are you going?_

_Who said you were supposed to know all of my outings, rider?_

Eragon didn't argue as he knew he would not get anything from her if she did not wish him to know. _Have fun. _He said and walked with Saphira towards the gardens where the dragons stayed. Thorn was sleeping near a bare tree, and Vanir sat outside his cabin. When Eragon neared, Vanir stood and greeted him in the elven fashion.

Eragon returned the greeting and then scanned the area. "Where are Arya and Wyrda?" he asked.

Vanir shrugged. "They went flying maybe half an hour ago. They should return soon."

"You let them go flying alone?" Eragon asked, angry at his friend.

"I don't understand what the problem is, Eragon. I know from you that Saphira took care of herself growing up in the Spine. She was not much older than Wyrda when you left to chase the Ra'zac. Why should they not be able to fly on their own?" He met his eyes. "And Arya will not appreciate you trying to protect her."

"You don't understand. We are in the middle of a war, and Wyrda is a hatchling. Galbatorix will not hesitate to kill them. They are of no use to him. Wyrda has not even been trained to fight yet and Arya only knows the most basic ways of fighting from dragon back. You say Saphira grew up in the Spine. While that is true, there were only animals there, no magicians or shades or magic. And when we began to fight, we were always with Brom and later Murtagh. We were not alone until she was much older. And even then, Arya fought alongside us."

Vanir looked surprised. "I apologize for not keeping a closer eye on them." Vanir was examining him closely. "You have grown much since Ellesméra." He twisted a ring around his finger and then glanced up. "It seems as if I should give you my allegiance." Vanir went ahead before Eragon could respond. "Until the time when I no longer act as a rider, I swear fealty to you and Saphira."

Eragon stared at him. He had not expected the proud elf to swear himself to him. Vanir dismissed himself and Eragon walked over to Thorn. The dragon opened an eye. _Welcome back. _He said with a large yawn and raised his head from the ground.

_Thank you. _Eragon looked unsurely at the red dragon. He considered himself a slave? Eragon tried to get more time to think. _How are you getting along with Vanir?_

Thorn blew a puff of smoke from his nose. _I miss Murtagh, but Vanir is a good friend. He has not tried to take my rider's place._

Eragon met the dragon's eyes. _What do you think of me, Thorn?_

As they were speaking the ancient language, Eragon knew that what the dragon said would be the truth. _You are my master. _He said without hesitating and Eragon frowned.

_Thorn, you are free. You are no longer a slave. I am only your master in the teacher sense of the word. By your oath, I am your leader._

The dragon looked slightly confused. _A leader is a master._

_No. _Did the dragon truly believe that? No doubt with Galbatorix being all he had known. _A leader is not a master._

_But if your leader tells you to do something, you do it immediately and you are punished if you do not. How is it different?_

The dragon's logic was difficult to deny even though Eragon knew it to be faulty. _It is different because you obey by your own free choice. I have sworn fealty to Nasuada, but that does not make her my master. If she was ever to give me a command that I felt was wrong, I could choose not to obey, perhaps accepting the consequences, but making a free choice. _The dragon seemed unsure. _I do not mean anything by this, Thorn, but if I asked you to kill Murtagh, would you obey?_

_Never._

Eragon smiled. _But if Galbatorix had asked you, you would have been forced to, is that correct. _He nodded. _That is why it is different. Loyalty and servitude are different things. _He heard the beating of wings and the smaller green dragon landed almost clumsily in the garden and Arya slid down. _I need to speak with them. Do you understand now?_

_Yes. I think so._

Eragon smiled at the dragon and turned to Arya and Wyrda. Arya smiled at him as he approached. Eragon returned the smile. "It is good to see you again."

She raised her fingers to her lips and began the greeting even as she smiled.

Eragon said his part and then removed his fingers. "Do we not know each other well enough to skip that?"

"After longer periods of time apart, it is polite. Otherwise, no, it is not necessary." Wyrda interjected a greeting to Eragon and then announced that he was going to take a nap. Thorn said he was going to go flying and Saphira decided to join him. Arya raised her eyebrows. "Is it me, or are they all leaving us alone."

"It's not just you." Eragon smiled. "Orik and the dwarves are here. There will be a meeting around dinnertime. But until then, we will be alone."

At that moment, Alia returned with Roran and Eragon sighed. "Or not."

"Be polite." Arya chastised quietly. "You just returned and you need to talk with Roran."

"Did something happen?"

She nodded. "I'll be in my cabin." She reached out and gripped his arm lightly. "See you later." Arya turned and left. Eragon stared after her wistfully. Roran walked over.

"Did I interrupt something?"

"Not really." He sighed. "It's just we never get time alone. Between meetings, friends, and the dragons it seems we are always with someone. So, Arya said something happened on your mission?"

Roran nodded. "It's a long story. Maybe we should go inside and sit down."

Eragon and Roran took chairs and Alia hesitated before leaping up onto Eragon's lap and stretching out. He smiled. "You have forgiven me then?" He asked with a smirk.

_You are a maddening and immature excuse for a rider, but yes. I have forgiven you._

"Thanks." He said dryly and stroked the cat absently. "Roran, would you like to start from the beginning."

Eragon listened to his cousin begin to recount the details. When he mentioned Alia's wound, Eragon's hand, which had been resting on the arm of his chair, returned to petting the werecat almost without thinking.

"You died?" Eragon interrupted for the first time. "But you're here and you're fine. That shouldn't be possible."

_Sometimes you really are dense, rider. I brought him back. He left without letting me pay my debt._

"I knew werecats had magic, but you can raise the dead?"

_No. Not in the way you are thinking, but to some extent, yes. It is more important that the mission went well._

Eragon let them finish the story and then Roran left, telling him to spend some time with 'his elf,' as Roran still liked to put it.

Eragon knocked on her door and Arya came out. He glanced at her. Even with her injury healed, Arya still looked a bit pale. "Are you feeling normally yet?" he asked as she shut the door behind her to join him.

Arya's hand went to her injury. "It scarred and we can't get rid of it, but I am fine."

Eragon sighed. Arya would tell him she was fine no matter what was happening to her. "Did you have anything in particular that you wanted to do?"

She smiled. "We never did get to spar as I asked before we were attacked."

Eragon grinned back. "That seems like a good idea." He drew Brisingr and blocked the blade as she did the same with her unnamed sword.

Their swords met with a clash and each fought to gain the upper hand. Slowly, Eragon managed to push her back. At some point, Thorn and Saphira returned, but the pair continued to fight. Early on in their duel, Vanir had came through his door, sword drawn, but had went back inside when he saw the two sparring. An extremely nervous cough caused them both to spin away from each other and look for the source.

A messenger boy, Eragon recognized him as Jarsha, was staring at them with wide eyes. Eragon relaxed his sword and smiled reassuringly at the boy. "Um, Lady Nasuada requests your presence for the meeting with King Orik." He suddenly gasped and Eragon immediately realized why as the cold steel of Arya's sword pressed against the back of his neck.

He felt her breath by his ear. "Never turn your back on an opponent." She withdrew the blade and returned it to its sheath, belted to her hip.

Eragon dismissed the boy. "If I remember right, that is the first lesson Brom taught me about sword fighting. But I also assumed that you can trust a friend to watch your back, not stab you in it."

"Perhaps, but not in a duel." She said with a quiet laugh. "We should go."

Eragon nodded. _Saphira, are you coming?_

_No. I just ate and would prefer a nap. Besides, meetings bore me._

_I see. So you abandon your rider to his miserable plight. Of course. _Eragon glanced back at the magnificent aquamarine dragon, curled up in as small a ball as possible. _Enjoy your rest._

Wyrda was still asleep and they walked toward the gates, but even as they reached the main castle doors, Nasuada and Orik walked out with their guards. Eragon and Arya walked up to them. Arya smiled at the new dwarf king. "I am glad to see you again."

He nodded to her. "Aye, it is."

Nasuada greeted them. "We decided it would be more pleasant if we talked outside of the castle, even if we remain within its walls." They joined the human and dwarf and the four started walking toward the pond behind the castle. "First, Orik, I know what has been going on among the dwarves from communicating through scrying, but would you mind giving me an overview of what is happening among the dwarves."

"Sure. The clans are not united as I would wish, but in time…"

He was cut off as a horn sounded, and then another. Eragon looked at Nasuada and saw that she was as confused as he was. And then Eragon saw a shape in the distance, the unmistakable form of a dragon. A huge, black dragon was flying straight toward the Varden. Eragon's, stomach dropped. _Saphira. _He called weakly.

_I see him. _She responded, and for once, Eragon heard true, undisguised fear in Saphira's voice.

**Major cliffhanger!**

**I bet no one saw that one coming. Please review!**


	21. Confrontation

**A.N. Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter. This one is short. Here you go.**

A horn sounded again and the Varden scrambled to their weapons, confused and afraid. Eragon's gut twisted as the black dragon approached the city. No! He was not ready. Saphira landed beside him and he felt her worry as well. _They will destroy us._

_And yet we must fight lest the Varden be killed. We do have Thorn and Vanir._

Eragon watched the new dragon with dread. _He's huge, Saphira._

_Glaedr was bigger. I have more agility than the larger ones._She tried to reassure him, but her voice was quiet and quavered as she spoke.

"Eragon." Nasuada's sad voice called him from their conversation.

He looked at her. _Thorn, Vanir, be prepared and meet us in the air. _"We go to fight."

Nasuada looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "Good luck, Eragon." She said as she embraced him lightly.

With a grim expression, Eragon mounted Saphira. He wished he had time to don his armor, but the dragon was approaching quickly. _Eragon. _Arya's worried voice entered his mind. _He'll destroy you._

_It matters not. We have to fight. Stay on the ground. Protect Wyrda. I love you, Arya._

There was a long pause. _I love you as well__. __Atra esterní ono thelduin. Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr. __Un du evarínya ono varda._

With the ceremonial greeting as a blessing, Saphira took to the air and Vanilor combined minds with theirs, offering more defense than they could otherwise hold. Eragon saw Thorn and Vanir rise also and they flew to meet the black dragon.

Roaring, Saphira dove at him but the dragon didn't flinch, letting her talon's bounce off his wards. For the first time, Eragon saw who the evil king. His hair was dark as well as his eyes. His skin a deep tan and he appeared around forty years of age. Eragon saw that Murtagh was behind him on the saddle.

As Thorn approached, Galbatorix held a knife to Murtagh's neck and spoke in a magically raised voice. "Thorn, if you wish your rider to live, land immediately." Eragon grimaced as the ruby dragon dove toward the ground. They were in this alone.

Saphira sent an inferno of raging fire directly at Galbatorix as they closed, but again the ward deflected her. _Help! _Eragon called to the elves and they funneled energy into him as he prepared a spell. "Letta." He said, trying to immobilize the king to test his disadvantage. His only reassurance in the fight was that the black pair wouldn't try to kill either him or Saphira.

Galbatorix grinned and muttered something in the ancient language. Eragon's spell broke as if it were nothing. Murtagh was watching sadly from the saddle. Saphira closed with him again and Eragon swung at the dragon's neck with Brisingr. Galbatorix raised his own blade. Anger filled Eragon as his eyes fell upon the sword Galbatorix was using. That sword had to be Undbitr, his father's sword. It clashed with his and Brisingr was sent flying from his hand from the sheer power behind the strike, leaving his hand numb and stinging.

Losing hope, Eragon and Saphira continued to batter at the black dragon and his rider. Galbatorix laughed, blocking attacks as if he were fighting a child. "I know not how you managed to defeat my underlings before when you are so weak. I don't know why I was worried. Neither you or the Varden are any threat."

Furious, Saphira barreled into his side and bit at Shruikan's leg. Eragon smiled. Saphira had drawn blood. Not so weak he thought. Were Galbatorix's wards defeated so easily?

Shruikan roared and rolled, and too late, the blue dragon and rider saw the danger. Shruikan's talons stretched and closed around Eragon's waist.

_Eragon! _Sharp pain filled him as his legs tore free of Saphira's saddle. One of her spines ripped across his back as the black dragon pulled him away from the partner of his mind.

_Saphira. _Eragon was being carried farther away with Saphira in desperate pursuit. _No. He wants you to follow. And you have the eldunarí. Letta! If you come we will lose for sure. Don't follow and don't send anyone after. Don't let Arya come. _As the dragon bore him away, Eragon muttered "Jiedra." and the belt of Beloth the Wise fell, accompanied by Aren. The only things he had left to remember his teachers. _Keep them safe. I love you, Saphira, but you have to stay. _Eragon was filled with her grief and Saphira flared her wings, uttering a piercing lament as her rider was carried in the claws of the enemy back to Uru'baen.

**Ha! Extreme cliffhanger. I couldn't help myself but to do this to you all again. What is going to happen? Any thoughts? And none of you have any idea how happy I am that now my story with have a bar to scroll down by the chapters. It probably makes me more happy than it should, but I have the right to be easily amused. Thanks for taking the time to read. Leave a review!**


	22. Mourning

**A.N. Here is the next chapter. I apologize for the last one and I will be changing it to make it longer, better fight scene, the characters more into it. Just a heads up that that will be coming. Enjoy.**

Saphira landed with a crash in the forest and sent a lamenting wail echoing through the cool air. Her rider was lost. Gone. A prisoner.

An unlucky finch flew in front of her and was consumed in an intense stream of blue flame. No one had the right to be so carefree when her Eragon had been taken. Saphira whimpered and curled up in the woods, not wanting to face the Varden. She had failed her rider and in turn failed them. She had allowed their only chance at victory to be snatched from her back. Saphira forced her mind away from what Arya had looked like when she had been rescued from Gil'ead. She had to stay strong for him.

The next morning, Saphira found where his belongings had fallen and gathered them in her claws though it took a while to get the ring around the daggar point of one of her claws. Saphira flew back to the gardens, unable to take any joy even in flight. Thorn and Wyrda looked up with concern as she landed heavily and collapsed back onto the ground. A minute later, Wyrda cautiously approached her and nuzzled her neck, trying to comfort her. Saphira snapped at him and pushed him away. Thorn watched, but didn't speak, a guilty expression in his eyes. Guilty he was. He had abandoned them to Galbatorix alone. She let out an undragon-like whimper. She had left Eragon alone, knowing what would be to come for him.

She raised her head as the door to the cabin that Wyrda's rider occupied opened. Arya walked out, her face tear stained and her eyes had a hollow look to them. She approached the sapphire dragon and, without speaking, sat against her warm side. Saphira made to push the elf away, but then curled her neck around Arya and lay, trembling.

* * *

><p>Nasuada wiped her eyes and walked out to the gardens. Saphira looked devastated, lying on the ground without moving. Arya did not look much better off. She was sleeping at the time next to Saphira's shoulder, but her face was tearstained and her shoulders shook occasionally, a testament to the fact that she had been crying. Her young green dragon keened quietly and kept trying to comfort Saphira but to no avail. Vanir looked upset and was standing by the red dragon that hung his head in guilt. Even Eragon's werecat, Alia sat on the roof of the cabin he stayed in and watched the scene below with mournful eyes.<p>

She watched the garden and could not help herself the few crystal tears that ran down her cheeks. She had seen it coming as soon as the shadow of the black dragon appeared in the sky, but she had hoped. Looking over the rider camp, as it had become known to the commoners, she realized how much the Varden's rider had been worth. Even now, with the Varden still having three dragons and an elven rider, another elf acting as a rider, and twelve elven spellcasters to aid them, it seemed all hope had been lost with Eragon. His youth, his spirit had spurred on the Varden. Now, no one was in the streets. The few people that went out were only moving from place to place. And now the Varden's remaining hopes were mourning and had secluded themselves from all outside contact.

She was torn from her melancholy thoughts by the approach of Vanir. "Nasuada." He acknowledged flatly.

She looked up so he could see she did care. "What happened? Why did you and Thorn abandon him?"

Vanir looked up, suddenly realizing what it would have looked like to anyone on the ground. "He had Murtagh with him. Pressed his sword against his neck. It was one of the promises Eragon made to Thorn, if ever his true rider's life was in danger if he fought, he did not have to. Thorn could not risk his rider's death."

Nasuada nodded. She had known they had not betrayed them or Saphira would have been in a rage instead of withdrawing herself. Nasuada didn't know what to say and sat down, soiling her dress in the dirt, but she didn't care. Vanir looked at her and then went back to Thorn. She knew not how long she sat there before the emerald scaled dragon padded over and laid ten feet from her, looking into her eyes.

_Why are you here? _Nasuada jumped. She had not expected the dragon to speak to her. He never had spoken directly to her before and she had thought he was too young. _Why are you here? _He repeated.

"I don't know." She said truthfully and the dragon blinked at her. "Why?"

He didn't move. _You are the leader. Can't you do something?_

"What?"

She felt a pressure that felt like a mental shrug and the dragon responded. _Anything. It is unlikely that the black ones will return now that they have him. Send Saphira and Arya somewhere, anywhere._

_Not you? _Nasuada asked as the dragon did not withdraw from her mind.

_My rider is ignoring me. Saphira will speak to no one besides Arya._

_I will think of something._

_Thank you. _He withdrew and went back over to curl up beside the others. Nasuada thought about the green dragon's idea as she walked back to the castle. No doubt her guards would nag her, respectfully of course, for losing them to be alone, but only those she trusted had been allowed to reside within the walls surrounding the castle so she hadn't really been in any danger.

* * *

><p>Throbbing constant pain tore across his back as he came slowly to consciousness. To his surprise, it was not in a dark cold cell into which he woke, but a warm comfortable bed, more lavish than any he had before slept in. Fighting the pain in his back and the blistering sores the dragon's talons had made on his side and leg, Eragon pushed himself into a sitting position and looked out a small window. It was dark, leaving him no clue as to what time it was or even where he was, though he assumed it was Uru'baen.<p>

He didn't know how much time had passed before the door opened and the king walked in. Eragon prepared his mind immediately to defend himself, but the king only smiled at him. "No need for that, Eragon. Our first meeting was not very peaceable, but I have no ill will toward you."

Eragon narrowed his eyes and continued building layers of protection around his mind, using the strategies Vanilor had taught him. He took the time to examine the king more closely. The king was tall, but not tall enough to be considered strange. He was muscular, but not heavy. His hair was dark, a near match to his black beard though his beard lacked the occasional gray strands his hair had. His skin was deeply tanned. If Eragon had met him on the street, he would have thought nothing of him. The only thing that would have possibly hinted at his insanity was the eyes.

His eyes were dark and flashed with a sinister gleam. Eragon met his eyes and somehow saw his insanity in them. "I have to admit, you are not what I expected to find. A strange farm boy indeed, though Morzan's fire I can see already in you." Eragon fought a slight smile from his face despite his predicament. So the king did not know. Eragon didn't respond to the comment. "Come, boy, there is no need for hostilities. Murtagh I made my slave, but you will rule beside me in a place of power. Together, no one will stand in our way."

Eragon stood, feeling intimidated by the king looking down on him. "I will _never _serve you."

Anger twisted the king's face and he raised his hand. As Eragon prepared for the blow, the king lowered his hand. "You can make this easy, rider. Join me and rule at my side, or I will best you and make you my slave." Eragon felt a probe touch his mind and recoiled.

"I will not serve you." Eragon said, not backing down from the king's glare.

A sick smile came over his face. "We shall see about that." Knowing it would be a long time before Saphira and the Varden would reach him, he prayed to any gods there were that he would not be forced to betray everyone he knew. The king did hit him then, and Eragon collapsed to the bed from the blow, retreating deep within himself to maintain the barriers he held, the only things protecting him and all those he cared for from the dark king.

* * *

><p>A whimper from Saphira drew everyone's attention at the meeting she had dragged herself to at Vanir's insistence. His argument that her lying around did nothing to better his chances had convinced her to attend. Arya had followed. The elf seemed to be only half at the meeting. She was mute and stared blankly at the table in front of her. When Nasuada asked, she would answer, but she did not volunteer her thoughts as she often did. But Saphira's whimper had drawn everyone's attention. The dragon never made noises like that.<p>

_What is it, Saphira?_

The dragon turned her eye on the elven princess. _He's in pain. I think… I think they are torturing him. _Arya's face lost all color and she walked over to Saphira and embraced her.

"Saphira, Arya?" Nasuada asked with some hesitation in her voice. When neither responded, she dismissed the others in the room. "What is going on?"

Arya looked at her. "He's being tortured." Nasuada bit her lip. It was expected, but to hear it, to have it confirmed was an entirely different feeling.

"I would have thought that you, Saphira, would have insisted on going after him. Or you for that matter Arya."

Saphira blew smoke. _He asked us not to, commanded us. We are too weak to fight Galbatorix. It's hopeless._

"So you would give up? Give up on Eragon?"

Saphira's jaws snapped perilously close to her head and Nasuada cursed her own stupidity. Had she really said_ that_ to a grief stricken dragon who had always had a temper? _What are you saying, two-leg._

"I'm sorry, Saphira." She sighed. "I am sending you two on a mission. It's important."

"I will not leave Wyrda." Arya pointed out calmly.

To Nasuada's surprise, it was Saphira who argued that point. _You need to be separated from him. If you cannot be apart, you will become soft. _Saphira shook her head and turned back to Nasuada. _Where are you sending us? I want to kill. To taste the empires blood on my tongue. They will pay._

Nasuada flinched at the raw ferocity in her voice. "North, to Gilna. It's a small town on the edge of the mountains. Grimmr Halfpaw has informed me that some of his warriors are being kept away by the empire. Will you go and fight?"

Saphira roared. Arya looked at the blue dragon and nodded without speaking.

* * *

><p>Eragon fought the pain at first. As the knives and whips dug into his skin, tearing open wounds and creating streams of sticky blood, he had tried to ignore the horrors being dealt him. But it was not easy.<p>

The door flew open and Galbatorix walked in, considering the rider before him. Eragon gasped as a mental probe attacked his mind and retreated deeper. The king hissed in frustration.

"Who taught you to defend your mind?" He demanded.

Eragon smiled faintly. Vanilor. The dragon that gave you so much trouble all those years. But he didn't respond.

When he realized Eragon was not going to respond to his question, he took out a whip and cracked it in the air. "I'm going to really enjoy this." He leered. "Brisingr." The whip he held in his hand was covered in tongues of flame. "Tell me when you decide to talk." The flaming whip fell, wrapping around Eragon's arm. He screamed as he felt the magical fire scorching his skin. The whip fell again and again. His barriers were slipping. Galbatorix would soon be able to get into his mind.

Desperately, Eragon transferred his focus to the pain. He gave in to it, letting it consume him. As Eragon embraced the pain, his mental shield strengthened. The pain was a constant, something to cling to. Eventually the session stopped and Eragon felt a spell cast on his body to determine his condition. A few, potentially fatal wounds were partially healed before he was thrown back on the bloodied sheets of his rough cot, only to fall into unconsciousness.

When his eyes opened, he was immediately aware of a presence in the room and tensed, preparing for the coming blows. What he didn't expect was for the pain to fade somewhat as his more serious wounds were healed. Eragon blinked and his eyes focused on a youth with black hair and a grim expression.

Eragon closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Hello, Murtagh."

**Another cliffhanger. I seem to be doing that to you all a lot. Any ideas about Murtagh? What his role is? Thanks for reading my story. I really appreciate it if you leave me a review. Tell me you liked it or hated it. Even just to say you read it. Any predictions for the story?**


	23. An Unfair Fight

**A.N. A lot happens in this one. It took a while to get it right, but I think I finally did. I've been waiting for this chapter for a while. There is a bit of action in this chapter as well. I hope you enjoy it and sorry for the wait.**

"Brother." Murtagh gave a smile that didn't reach his eyes and he leaned back against the wall with a sad frown. "I had always hoped you would win." He admitted. "There was hope, only a sliver, but hope."

Eragon pushed himself into a sitting position and propped himself against the wall, wincing as he irritated his injuries. "Thorn is safe."

Murtagh relaxed and gave a true smile. "Tell me about him." When Eragon paused to consider if speaking at all to his enemy was safe, Murtagh pleaded, pride abandoned. "What if it was your Saphira and you hadn't seen her in a month? I need to know, Eragon."

"At first he was dangerous. I didn't trust him and he was full of angst. As time passed, he came to trust me and then, by extension, my friends. He is happy, he feels guilty about it, but he tells me he is as happy as he has ever been, not that he doesn't miss you because he does, probably as badly as you miss him. His worry is that you hate him for leaving."

"I could never hate him." Murtagh frowned. "You can't win, Eragon. I don't know how you even lasted as long as you have, but there is no hope. He is too strong."

"I'll never give in to him, Murtagh. No matter what he does to me, I will not betray by friends."

Murtagh shrugged. "I didn't think so." He stood and then sighed, reaching out and pinching Eragon.

"What was that for?" Eragon exclaimed.

Murtagh smiled. "Well, Galbatorix ordered me to hurt you if you did not agree to submit. He didn't, however, specify how much." Shaking his head, he walked to the door. "Galbatorix will be coming soon, within the hour." With that, he left, letting Eragon steep in his worry.

* * *

><p>Saphira's wings beat at the air with a determination Arya would not have believed possible. Arya had predicted the journey to take a week to arrive there, but now it seemed as if four days were going to be more likely. Her body was tense and she quivered, a clear indication that Eragon was not in good health. She watched with a sort of sick satisfaction as Saphira blasted an innocent school of songbirds into charred debris as the birds came too close. Normally, the deaths would have sickened her, but not today, not with Eragon gone. Who cared if the birds lived or not?<p>

Arya rubbed the dragon's neck to get her attention. _Saphira? You must land. This is unsafe and you will need your strength to fight when we arrive._

Saphira snorted a tongue of flame and continued flying. _Do you care nothing for my rider. I want to avenge him, even if it is only on a few puny humans hiding away from the Varden's army. And what right could you have that would give you any authority to judge a dragon's actions beyond your own._

Arya flinched at her tone, but had finally come to realize that their petty self-induced isolation was doing nothing to help Eragon. But Saphira's words claiming she didn't care stung more than the dragon knew. Could she not feel Arya's grief? Eragon could soon be lost to her as Faolin had been. She bit her lip to not respond to the dragon's accusations. _Actually, Eragon and I shared an oath. _She had the dragon's attention now. _We swore that in the event of… of something happening to one of us, we would watch over the other's dragon as our own. I promised him to help you, Saphira. Would you force me to break my oath?_

The dragon angled downwards toward the trees before landing with a thud. As Arya slid off, she felt the dragon's contact with her mind collapse and, for the first time since her rider's capture, Saphira succumbed completely o her grief. Arya rushed to comfort the dragon as she whimpered quietly. As her arms were wrapped around the grieving dragon's head, she could not prevent a tear of her own from landing on the dragon's gleaming scales.

* * *

><p>Pain. He was more familiar with it than anyone should ever be. He had even come to recognize the different types. There was the blistering mind-numbing pain of fire and heat, the sharp, cutting pain of a whip, deep intense pain caused by knives, the constant and throbbing pain of older injuries, and, underneath it all, the aching pain in his chest that knew the one he loved most knew exactly what was happening to him and was grieving him.<p>

The only sense Eragon had of time was that it had been at least two days since the king had set out to infiltrate his mind. Locked in the darkness of his damp prison, he would have had no idea of the passing of time, but for the occasional visit from Murtagh. The dark bruises and cuts on the other rider's body told him that Murtagh was not treated well either, though he was definitely better taken care of than Eragon currently was. He had informed Eragon it had been two days since the beginning as he had healed the infection from lying on the disgusting dungeon floor, covered in every kind of filth. There were rats too, and along with his wounds there were the marks from their teeth. Murtagh had been forbidden to heal Eragon's wounds, but he healed the infection anyway, justifying it as he did nothing for the actual wound.

But at the moment, Eragon was alone, left to his thoughts. There was a small hope left. In the Spring, the Varden would march. If they joined with the elves and then attacked Uru'baen, they might be able to overwhelm it. Then, there was the possibility that Saphira and Thorn would be able to attack the king before he could threaten them into submission by threatening their riders. Wyrda and Arya might be strong enough to fight as well. But that was all counting on one thing. He had to resist.

His stomach twisted as the man he had come to hate more than he believed possible opened the door to his cell. "Good morning, Eragon." He spoke with a sickening politeness and Eragon turned his head so he didn't have to see the man. Galbatorix only laughed. "You are more fun than any I have tortured in a while, but I am beginning to get annoyed." He kicked Eragon in the ribs and smiled as he heard several break. Eragon gasped, but concentrated with his whole mind on keeping the man out, defending himself against the swordlike probe that attacked his mind again. Galbatorix stopped and healed Eragon partially.

"Stand up. We're going for a walk. I have something that just might change your mind." Eragon was jerked to his feet by magic and followed hopelessly behind the king.

* * *

><p>Arya smiled. Today they would get to fight, to kill the soldiers of the empire. Soldiers who served him who had taken the Varden's hope. Saphira flew on with fierce resolve. She wanted to tear into these men even more than Arya. She wanted to taste their blood as she ripped them abart. And for once, the though did not make Arya feel sick in the least. The loss of life did not seem unnecessary. She actually found herself looking forward to it. Saphira suddenly roared and dove down toward the crowd of soldiers.<p>

A barrage of magical fire came up at them and Saphira rolled, pure instinct saving her from being caught in the attack. "Barzul." Arya swore. _That was too close, Saphira. I think we'd be safer on the ground._

She felt the dragon's agreement and they race to the ground And Arya leapt off, drawing Eragon's sword from her waist. She had chosen to carry it in his place and she wore the belt and ring as well upon Saphira's advice. Now, they ran toward the men. _How many do you count? _Saphira asked Arya, sending a burst of her own flame to combat a second wave from reaching them.

Arya squinted to see through the smoke from the magicians' fire. _Near two hundred? _She guessed. _At least twenty magic users though more than half seem too concerned upholding a single spell than with us._

_What do you think they are up to? _There was no opportunity to answer as they met the soldiers and all concentration went toward the fight. Arya stabbed a man in the chest as Saphira charred the five men nearest her and they fell. Her stomach dropped, however, when the men stood again, smoldering and reeking of burnt flesh, and giggled maniacally. The man she had impaled stood also and more approached. Arya beheaded him before he could laugh and swore again. How could they have assumed two hundred regular soldiers and a couple of magicians could hold back a group of werecats they were told should number over fifty?

Arya twisted and decapitated two more men with one stroke before stepping quickly to avoid being separated from the dragon. _Careful, Saphira. _She warned as a man tried to stab her flank.

Saphira caught him in her jaws and shook him violently before throwing the dead man into the other soldiers. They were being swarmed and Arya knew they would be overpowered by sheer number.

_Get on my back. _Arya complied, defending Saphira as she mounted. Saphira danced back, away from the men and they followed closely. She raised her wings as if to take off and the men rushed her again to keep her on the ground. Saphira jumped back again.

_What are you doing? Get in the air._

_Not yet. _Saphira seemed to be amused as she taunted the soldiers into following her farther and farther away from the magicians and Arya realized what was happening finally. After almost fifteen minutes of retreating, Saphira shoved herself into the air and flew back. She landed suddenly, surprising the magicians as they found themselves alone against the wrath of an angry dragon and rider. _This is the fight that matters. Go for the ones not holding the spell first._

Arya joined minds with Saphira as they attacked the group of magicians that had separated from the others. Saphira breather an inferno of flame on them and was satisfied as she felt their wards straining to combat it. She could keep it up for several minutes now that she had matured, and the look of growing horror on the magicians' faces was incentive enough to keep it up. Arya defended the dragon from the fireballs and spells that were being sent at her as she battled to enter one of their minds. A young woman who looked barely twenty gasped as her mind was overpowered by the elf.

Arya sifted through her memories before cancelling the girl's wards and she immediately combusted and was reduced to ash in a matter of seconds. Another man was charred as his energy to maintain the wards failed him before Saphira had to stop her fire. By then, the attacking force of magicians had been reduced by a quarter. The others looked shaken. Arya drew Brisingr and approached while Saphira attacked four on her own. As one magician tried in panic to cast a killing spell without considering their wards, he fell dead as Arya's own wards returned his curse to him.

Saphira hissed and Arya turned to see the dragon had been cut in the side by an enchanted dagger. The dragon immediately returned the favor by snapping her jaws closed on the magician, reducing her wards to naught and she was killed. An attack bouncing off her wards returned Arya to her own battle. She was facing a middle aged woman who kept attacking her mind with astounding persistence and aptitude. Both were locked in a mental battle when Arya raised Brisingr. She managed to hold the attack off her mind, which doubled in intensity as she neared, but the woman was too trapped in the mental battle and the absolute focus it required to even move as the sword separated her head from her body. Spattered in blood, Arya went to help Saphira who only had one attacker left. Soon, he too was dispatched.

_There are still twelve, Saphira. I managed to get into one of their minds. The spell is maintaining the werecats in an invisible prison. If we were to take down one or two, the spell might break or consume too much energy. We have to hurry before the abominations return._ She indicated the returning soldiers only minutes away.

_This one. _Arya indicated a man and they set to attacking him in turns as he was helpless to defend, holding the spell. After a while, Brisingr cut through his body, killing him. The spell wavered before one of the magicians collapsed, dead from exhaustion. After a few seconds, another fell and then more as the spell increased its draw on energy on a shrinking group of people. As the last two fell together, there was a loud noise like an explosion and a large group of furious werecats came into view, looking haggard but incensed from their imprisonment.

"There will still be a fight." Arya yelled to them in the ancient language. "Those soldiers can only be killed by severe head wounds or a punctured heart." The werecats wasted no time in drawing weapons and preparing for battle. As the soldiers neared, Arya drew her bow and began to send arrows through their eyes, causing nearly forty to fall in rapid succession before she ran out of arrows. They were almost within range and several of the werecats began throwing knives. Then, there was a pause before the group rushed in as one, fighting in a pride like lions. Arya joined them a moment later with Saphira and soon, the entire group was disbanded, and as none would flee, there were no survivors. With a smile of success, Arya turned to the werecats.

* * *

><p>Eragon soon found himself standing on the top of a set of steps. "Look up, Eragon." He obeyed reluctantly and his heart stopped for a second as he saw the blue dragon straining against her chains, bound by magic.<p>

Then he recovered himself. "It's an apparition. You've tried this before and it didn't work. I know she isn't real."

Galbatorix only laughed. "Oh, isn't she? Open your mind a little, see for yourself."

Eragon did open only the outer layers in his panic, not enough that he wouldn't be able to replace the barriers if needed. A mental shout tore through his mind. _Eragon! _Her voice. Galbatorix touched him and his shields returned. He tried to get to the dragon, but was held back.

"And if she wasn't real, how do you explain this?" He nodded and the magician controlling her sank a sword into her side and a deep, sympathetic pain manifested itself in his own side. As Eragon screamed for him to stop, Galbatorix grinned. "For what we want her for, she would have no use for her wings, would we?" Saphira struggled as the man forced her wind straight and raised the sword. "Unless you are willing to give in. She will be safe."

Eragon collapsed to his knees. "Promise me."

In the ancient language, the king swore. "I promise that if you submit yourself to me, I will not harm her nor allow anyone else to harm her in any way." He gestured to the now trumpeting dragon.

He dropped the shields around his mind and winced as the king's mental probe drove deep, searching his memories. Then he laughed. "You foolish boy. She was never here." He muttered a spell and Saphira collapsed into mist. "But now I have you." Softly he spoke seven words, the same seven words Brom had told him on his deathbed. Eragon felt a cold feeling like a noose slip around his neck and he cursed himself at his gullibility. His worst nightmare had come true. He was a nameslave.

**Cliffhanger! How many of you expected that to happen? Tell me what you think in a review please. I'll try to get the next one out faster. I should be updating my other story very soon as well, and if you haven't read it, I am not ashamed to advertise it a little. It's called **_**The Herbalist **_**and is worth a shot. Anyway, thank you for reading!**


	24. Becoming Acquainted

**A.N. Here is a chapter. Read.**

A werecat with fur the color of the night sky but with one white front paw and wearing a golden collar padded to Arya and transformed into her human form. Arya was slightly awed at the strange beauty of the werecat more than any others she had seen. She spoke in the ancient language. "My name is Arya Drottningu and this is Saphira Brightscales. It is an honor to meet you."

The werecat looked back at the group behind her. There had been no fatalities among the werecats, but several had been injured and were being healed by their companions. "I am the Lady of the Night, Shadowdeath, Rhinn Whiteclaw, the Queen of the Werecats." Arya shared a surprised look with Saphira, but then the dragon turned her head and began to slowly lick clean her bloodstained talons. Arya sighed and turned back to the queen. The queen bowed her head slightly. "We owe you for freeing us from those men." She said quietly.

Arya nodded. "It was our duty." Then she looked at the group of nearly fifty werecats and frowned. "If I may ask, how did they manage to trap you as they did?"

The queen stalked away and Arya frowned. Had she upset the werecat? Then she returned with a small kitten in her arms. "This is Hali. Her and her parents were trailing behind the group and were ambushed. Her parents were killed and they held her hostage. Our cubs are few and far between. While we hesitated, the magicians managed to bind us. It was ten days ago." The queen looked down. "The little one has not yet awoken from what they did to her."

Arya looked at the kitten and suddenly realized why the queen had told her so much, she was asking for help, but was to proud to come outright. "Do werecats not have magic of their own?"

"We do." She answered. "But it is wild magic and the kitten may be injured as easily as healed."

Arya nodded and knelt, holding out her hands to take the small werecat. It lolled limply in her hands and she gently probed it with magic. It was in a self induced coma, much like she had sent herself into, but the kitten did not have the experience to deal with the trauma she had gone through. Not sure if she was doing well, Arya cast a spell to wake the werecat and then began to heal her wounds. The kitten squealed at finding herself in Arya's hands, reminded of the humans. Hurriedly, Arya spoke in the Ancient Language, assuring the kitten, whether she understood completely or not, that Arya would not hurt her not let anyone else. Thinking of what Eragon must be suffering and what she herself had suffered, it infuriated her that one would treat a baby in such a way.

Saphira abandoned her cleaning to sniff at the werecat. She opened her mind slightly. _She is hungry. _Then Saphira returned to her business.

The baby was mewling pitifully and squirmed weakly in Arya's hands. She gave her back to the queen. "She is hungry." Arya repeated Saphira's statement as the queen accepted the kitten.

The queen looked at Saphira. "Dragon?" She questioned. Saphira's head snapped up at being addressed in that manner. "I fear I do not know your name."

_Saphira. _She hissed.

"Saphira. Very well." The queen raised a hand and a werecat, obviously a bodyguard came. The queen handed him the kitten and he took her away. "I must ask you and your rider for a favor."

Saphira glanced at Arya. _The elf is not my rider. She is his… friend? _Saphira looked to Arya as if unsure if that was the appropriate term for what was between her rider and the elf. Arya jerked her head.

"Yes, well. Hali needs milk if she is going to survive and we have no other nursing mothers."

It was only minutes before Arya was on the back of the blue dragon. Of all the strange things that occurred after battles, flying on her friend's dragon, searching for a cow was perhaps the strangest.

* * *

><p>Eragon was staring at the ground in front of him, fighting to control his breathing. He had just given himself up to Galbatorix. The king looked down at him. "Now, look at me." Eragon ignored him, staring at the ground. The king invoked his name and Eragon found himself being forced to meet the king's eyes. "Good. Now you will obey everything I tell you to do. That is a command." Eragon felt something like a heavy blanket settle on him. "Stand up." Eragon stood, trembling as he tried futilely to fight the king's orders. Unable to disobey, Eragon spat at the king to show his contempt, receiving for his action a cuff to his head. "You will not do that. Come now, Eragon, I have things to show you and then we will have a nice long chat. How does that sound." He ignored the king, but was forced to follow all the same.<p>

They stopped outside a large stone door and the king placed his hand on a black circle and spoke for it to open. The doors swung open soundlessly and the king lit the torches with a whisper. Eragon winced as he caught a first glimpse of the room. Human beings of various ages and genders were locked in metal cages. "These, Eragon, are my masterpieces. I created them from simple humans. He dwarves claim only their gods can create things, but I have made these. I am their god." Eragon fought down a wave of revulsion. "Come, let me show you. This first one here, they feel no pain. You have met those."

Eragon looked at the man, leaning against the cold metal bars. He stopped before a young girl. "She is faster than the elves. All her energy and magic goes toward speed." He continued walking. Eragon looked at the captives. Many watched as they walked by, but the majority was lying on the floor, not even glancing up as they passed. The depth of the king's madness reached him. Then they stopped at the end, the last cage and Eragon saw a boy, about his age. "He is my masterpiece. It is so close to channeling magic without energy. It has done it before, but will not anymore. If we can make more of him, there is no chance for even the elves to face but several."

They left the rooms and they were darkened and locked. Eragon followed him to a room and Eragon looked in awe at the king's throne room. It was huge and extravagant. The king sat at his throne. "Kneel." He found his knees bending without his consent. The sense of hopelessness and weakness it sent through him finally allowed Eragon to see Murtagh's point of view. He couldn't break free. It was impossible. "We will need to set some rules of course. First, since you were so troublesome, you are not allowed to heal your injuries nor allow anyone else to heal them for you. Second, you will stay here at the castle. You will not attempt to injure me of sabotage my plans. You will do as you are told and you will do it without hesitating. Understood?" Eragon stared at the stone floor. "Answer."

"It is understood."

**Alright, I didn't mean to end it here, but my mom is pestering me and I really have to go. Sorry. Please review.**

**And please check out my other story, **_**The Herbalist, **_**if you have not already. It is a first person POV by Angela chronicling her life and how she became who she is in the stories. It has lots of positive reviews. Please just check it out, read the first chapter.**


	25. A Break Between Friends

**A.N. I was sick… really! It is not just an excuse. But here the next chapter is. I hope that you enjoy it.**

Arya walked beside the werecats as Saphira took to the air to hunt. She had finally managed to convince the sapphire dragon that starving herself was in no way helping anyone. After a brief dispute, in which Arya would have been fried if she didn't have a ward protecting her against the inferno Saphira engulfed her in, the dragon took off.

The lone elf looked over the crowd of werecats to find the queen watching her, though she looked away as soon as she noticed that Arya had seen. She shook her head, not even bothering to attempt to understand the mind of a werecat. The queen had even burdened her with the care of the orphaned kitten until they rejoined with the Varden and the rest of the werecat army in Belatona.

Arya had asked a different werecat, a young male about why she would be trusted to take care of the baby that they held in such high regard. The werecat had only growled slightly and told her it was an honor. Arya resolved to ask Eragon's werecat when she returned. At least that one understood that few could claim to understand the werecats. Actually, she believed that only Angela could. All the same, she was not about to allow any harm to befall the infant.

Saphira landed with a heavy thud, not caring to soften the impact. Arya walked over to her and touched the dragon's snout. "What is it?" She asked. The dragon was obviously off. Saphira lowered her head to the ground and whined. "Saphira." The dragon's mind was shielded even as Arya tried to touch it. She sighed.

_Little One. _There was so much pain behind that address, the way she called Eragon as well that Arya was amazed she had chosen to use it. _Eragon had been being tortured every four hours almost to the second, but he has not been since I woke this morning. I worry that… _Saphira roared. Arya glared slightly as the tiny werecat, Hali, whimpered and buried herself more completely in Arya's arms. The blue dragon met Arya's eyes. _I cannot help feeling that something is very wrong, Arya. What if he did give in?_

Arya swallowed. Not many lasted under the emperor for any amount of time. "He is strong." She said, though her voice wavered.

The dragon tore at the ground with her talons. _I shouldn't be disrespecting him by thinking this way, by doubting him._

As Saphira continued to worry and stress, Arya did the only thing she could think of and lightly swatted the dragon on the nose. As Saphira rose up angrily, Arya stood her ground. "He would not appreciate you behaving like this. You are a dragon; act like one." Aryasighed, hating herself for what she had come to terms with herself. "Thorn has accepted what has come to pass and is determined to fight, with or without his rider, and now you must do the same."

Saphira tried to stare her down, but eventually lost, looking away instead. _I was right in the first place. You never deserved my rider. He cared for you above all the world, but then he is captured and you move on easily. Then you tell me, one who actually loves him, to forget about him? Consider our friendship broken, Arya. Until you prove yourself, I will speak to you no more._

"Saphira." Arya said in shock. The dragon took to the air and flew in the direction of the Varden, abandoning Arya and the werecats. A gleaming tear ran down Arya's cheek as she watched the departing dragon. She had never meant for this to happen. She had only been trying to convince Saphira to not give up. Her link to Eragon was gone.

The queen walked over and looked at the elf. "Sometimes well intentioned acts have unfortunate consequences. I could not help but notice your break with the dragon. It is up to you whether you take my advice, but to intrude upon her may turn out badly. Let the dragon speak first." The werecat walked away.

Arya thought for a moment and then reluctantly decided not to pursue Saphira. It was said never to disregard the words of a werecat, and she had been given advice by the werecats' queen, and as much as she didn't like it, she decided to listen.

* * *

><p>The door shut quietly, but Eragon didn't turn to see who it was who had entered. Most likely it was a servant, coming to check in on him and make sure he wasn't doing anything objectionable to the king. "Eragon. Get over yourself."<p>

He groaned and sat up. "What do you want, Murtagh?"

"Is that any way to speak to your brother?" he asked irritably.

Eragon glared. "You deserve it, and you're not my brother." Eragon watched the confused expression come over Murtagh's face and then he decided to continue. "My father is not Morzan. It was Brom."

An expression near anger came over Murtagh's face. "No wonder mother liked you better."

Eragon felt he owed something to his half brother. "I'm sure that isn't true, Murtagh. She may have preferred Brom to Morzan, but we both were her sons. How could she have taken you from Morzan if he barely allowed her to see you in the first place? The reason I did not get left there was because she knew her mistake and knew I did not belong there."

"So now I am a mistake?" Eragon groaned and tried to appease the rider.

"Her mistake was allowing Morzan near her son. He was a monster." Eragon sighed. "Why did you come here, Murtagh? Surely it wasn't only to talk about the mother neither of us ever knew."

"No. It wasn't." Murtagh took the chair nearest Eragon's bed. "He really set you up with a nice room, didn't he?" Murtagh was scanning the room and Eragon shrugged. The room was much larger than the entire house he had lived in back before he was a rider, but Eragon knew he preferred being free and living without a bed or roof than being a nameslave to the king.

"Murtagh, why did you come here? You are avoiding the question."

Eragon's half brother leaned back, tipping his chair onto two legs as he looked at the fire across the room, keeping the room warm. "I wanted to know, Eragon, if you could ever forgive me."

Eragon looked at Murtagh in surprise, raising his eyebrows. This side of Murtagh was something he had rarely seen. His memory went to when he had first met Murtagh, the man had attacked the Ra'zaac alone and saved he and Saphira's lives along with Brom. He had helped Eragon heal and had fought alongside him. He had helped rescue Eragon from Gilead and, forgoing his own wishes, had accompanied Eragon in bringing Arya to the Varden.

"Eragon?" Murtagh asked.

Eragon clenched his teeth. Murtagh's death had been faked and he had become a rider. He had come to fight against Eragon in the Battle of the Burning Plains. He had felled Hrothgar and tormented Eragon with the idea of having Morzan as a father. He had killed Eragon and Saphira's mentors. His conscience told him that some of that was excusable for being a nameslave.

"Why did you kill Hrothgar?" Eragon asked quietly. His oath sworn to avenge the drarf king was binding.

Murtagh met his eyes. "I was commanded to. Galbatorix was sure that if the dwarves' king was to die, it was likely that the new king would not be as sympathetic to the Varden's cause. Without the support of the dwarves, the Varden would be much easier to defeat. What he didn't count on was Orik becoming the new king." Eragon took a deep breath, partially relieved, but even more confused in his sentiments regarding his half brother.

"I forgive you Murtagh, if only because you are some of the only family I have left."

A smile spread across Murtagh's face. "Thank you Eragon." Then his expression darkened. "The king sent me here." He confided.

Eragon tensed, anger nearly bursting from him and he stood, magic only a word away. "You mean to say that all of that was a lie?" Murtagh stood and took a step back from Eragon. "After convincing me to forgive you, you tricked me."

"Eragon." Murtagh pleaded. "Listen. I meant that. Galbatorix sent me here for a different reason."

"Promise me in the ancient language."

Murtagh nodded. "I swear that no one prompted me to ask your forgiveness." Eragon took a breath. "He sent me here to bring you to Shruikan. You have not met him yet."

"And if I resist?" Eragon asked cautiously, testing his boundaries.

"Please do not, Eragon. I would then have to force you, and I have no wish to fight you." He shook his head. "And I have heard that Galbatorix wants to set us against one another. He believes that together we might be a threat to him, but if we are alone, there is little that we can do. Just follow."

Eragon followed Murtagh with a bit of curiosity. He had wondered about the dragon Galbatorix had forced to serve him. Was he a reluctant slave or was he for Galbatorix's cause. Was the dragon even sane? Murtagh stopped at door leading outside and gestured Eragon forward.

"The king and his dragon wait. I was told only to bring you this far."

Eragon opened the door and stepped forward to face the fell king and his dragon.

* * *

><p>Nasuada was looking out a window when Saphira landed heavily in the garden. A knot of worry formed in her gut as the dragon stalked the length of the garden, snapping at Thorn as he tried to approach her. Gathering her guards, they went to the gardens.<p>

"Saphira." Nasuada called. The dragon snapped her head around and growled at her, smoke billowing from her nostrils. Nasuada flinched but looked into the dragon's eyes. "What happened, and where are the werecats? Is Arya alright?"

At the mention of the elf, Saphira's eyes seemed to burn and the dragon took a step towad Nasuada in a threatening way.

The small emerald dragon, who had become withdrawn since his rider had been separated from him, placed himself between the dragon and the now afraid leader of the Varden. Saphira hissed before backing down somewhat, but continuing to growl deep in her throat.

_Your fight is not with her._

Saphira blinked and instead looked at the young dragon. _She is _your _rider. _Saphira drew back her head and then struck the young dragon in the side, causing him to whimper. The dragon did not respond, however, and got back on his feet, looking at the angry dragoness. Saphira made to hit him again, but Thorn intercepted her with a snarl.

_You would attack a hatchling? _The blood red dragon demanded. _Tell me. How does that make you any better than Shruikan or the king? Wryda has never wronged you._

Saphira ignored him and took to the air, flying into the forest where she disappeared among the trees. Nasuada stepped forward, looking confused. "What has caused you to fight amongst yourselves?" She asked the dragons with a sad voice. Without Eragon, everything was falling apart.

Wryda tried to shake himself out but whined and laid down. Thorn nosed his side uncertainly and the young dragon flinched away. _Vainir._ The elf approached from the step of his cabin, and after conversing with Thorn, went to Wyrda, casting a spell to heal the dragon. Several broken and buried ribs healed and the dragon stretched experimentally, nuzzling the elf gratefully when he found he could move without pain.

Wyrda went before Nasuada. _She has some sort of feud with my rider, but I know not what it is. As for Arya, she is unharmed and still a distance away. _The dragon glanced toward the forest. _She has closed her mind to all._

Nasuada sighed and thanked Arya's dragon as well as Thorn before turning to leave. As she did, Eragon's snowy werecat stopped in front of her and looked into her eyes. Alia transformed into her human shape. "Hope remains while there are those who fight injustice."

She paused. "Will Saphira listen to you?" Nasuada asked.

"She would listen to none but her rider now, and he is far beyond our reach. You shall have to make do with what you have and hope for the best." The werecat, blurring form again, passed between Nasuada's legs and disappeared into Eragon's empty cabin, leaving Nasuada with much to consider.

**What do you think? There shouldn't be so long of a wait for the next one. So… read and review!**

**P.S. Don't be afraid to check out my other story.**


	26. When All Seems Lost

**A.N. This one is a bit longer than the last few. A long weekend allowed me to write more and relax. So, this one gets a bit sad at one point, but it only proves the depravity (By the way, I put that in thesaurus to see if there was a better word and discovered that 'evilness' and 'badness' are real words. Evilness I get, kind of, but badness? Really?) of the king. This one is all Eragon as one reviewer requested. Enjoy!**

Eragon looked toward the ground but eyed the king and his dragon guardedly. He would have to meet this dragon. For the last year, he had had nightmares about it, and now, they had all come true. Not becoming a nameslave, but losing the battle. His only consolation was that Saphira was alive and well. Hopefully, Arya might have been able to keep her from despair, but he knew the elf would have it hard as well. She had lost Faolin and now she had lost him. Even worse, he had betrayed her. Galbatorix knew. He knew the elves' location and he knew of Arya's position. He also knew of the werecat's alliance. In his anger at discovering that information he had kicked Eragon who, unable to heal himself, was left bleeding and with a broken rib.

"Eragon." The king said in a level voice. Eragon glanced up. He had been standing just inside the door for a while. "What were you thinking about, hmm?" Without warning, the king's mind ripped into his. Eragon fell to his knee and gritted his teeth against the pain as the king sorted through his thoughts. "Attatched to the elf princess, are we?" Eragon closed his eyes. He had managed to keep their relationship hidden the first time the king had assaulted him. "Answer me."

"Yes, master." The words were ripped from his throat.

"Then we will have to plan something special for her, won't we? How would you like the honor of killing her?" Eragon kept his mouth shut, a tear leaking from his eye. The king had the power to force him to destroy Arya if he desired. "We can discuss this later. Now, this is Shruikan."

Eragon walked to stand before the dragon. The dragon snorted and lowered his head to look at Eragon. The rider stood still as the black beast sniffed at him and examined him from all sides. Then it withdrew its head and looked to the king.

"Bow before him." Eragon bowed and then straightened again, waiting for the dragon to speak. "I'll let you two get acquainted then. Eragon, you are to obey anything he tells you as you would me. Understand?"

"Yes, master." He grated out. Calling the king by the name he had called his mentors was painful, especially knowing that it was because of the man he was calling master that they had been killed.

As the king left, Eragon studied the dragon before him. It was pure black, not a dark shade of gray, but a pure black. In his dreams, he had always imagined the dragon to have yellow eyes, or if not that, red, but in hindsight, that was an imprudent notion. All of the other dragons he had met their scales matched their eye color, and Shruikan was no different. His eyes were like coals, fire burning in their depths. Honestly, he was impressive looking.

_So you are the rider we so feared. _The dragon's voice held a tone of amusement as he rumbled his comment. _You weren't much to fight though, were you?_

_You brag though you are nearly a hundred years our senior. Even so, we managed to draw blood. _Eragon spat, already in a bad mood.

The dragon hissed. _Why do you insist on insulting those on whom your life depends? Do you have a death wish? I could eat you alive or roast you in faster than you could blink._

_But you wouldn't._

_Perhaps. Unless you intend to continue this. I may not be allowed to kill you, but you are banned from healing yourself._

Eragon saw the truth in that and decided trying to irritate the dragon into betraying information wasn't the best idea. _Why do you serve the king?_

_I do not _serve _anyone but myself._

Eragon saw the smoke trailing up from the dragon's nostrils and bit back what he was going to say. _Then you are not a nameslave?_

_Of course not. _

_But then why do you help the king?_

_Foolish boy, fighting on the losing side. What hope do you have? Three young almost hatchling dragons versus me and Galbatorix, and two of their riders are nameslaves fighting for their enemy. Do you really think you can win?_

Eragon couldn't respond. He had always assumed the huge black dragon before him had been a nameslave, but they were speaking in the ancient language. The dragon before him served Galbatorix by his own will. For the first time, Eragon considered that the dragon might be as twisted as the king. He had allowed that he might be insane from the dark magic which had bonded him to the king, but the dragon seemed in his right mind.

_Answer me. Do you believe there is a hope of you winning?_

Eragon opened his mouth to respond and couldn't. The ancient language prevented him from lying. He looked down at the ground, knowing the truth.

_I thought so. _The dragon crowed. He snorted smoke through his nose in amusement and watched the rider as he became lost in his misery. He knew they were right. There was no hope left. Thorn and Saphira would buckle under the threat of pain or death unto their riders and Wryda was little more than a hatchling. Shruikan was nearly a hundred years old, and, with the king, they had a cache of an untold number of eldunari. Along with the king's altered soldiers, there was nothing the Varden could do to hope to compete.

Eragon looked up, wiping a tear from his eye for the loss of the battle, for those who would perish, and for those who would suffer under the king's endless rule. _Could I go now?_

Shruikan looked him over and then nodded his head slightly. _I am glad you have seen sense. You will see the good in time._

Eragon wandered aimlessly through the castle, not caring where he came or went. Eventually, he stumbled upon a library and sat, taking down a random book and opened it. He sat there, reading of the history of men until someone else entered the library. Eragon didn't glance up until he heard his name called.

"Oh, you." Eragon turned his attention back to the book after giving his brother a quick glance.

Murtagh came over with a frown and took the book from Eragon, marking the place. "If that is so interesting, you can go back to it later. What's up with you? You look as if it's the end of the world."

"Might as well be."

"What do you mean, Eragon?" Eragon tried to take the book back, but Murtagh held it out of his reach. "Not until you answer me, brother."

"We're not brothers." Eragon said, glaring at Murtagh but giving up on retrieving the book.

"Close enough. We have the same mother." He opened the book and read a paragraph. "What is so interesting about this book anyway? It's probably full of the king's lies anyway. Nothing telling the truth about anything exists in here.

Eragon sighed and snatched the book back before Murtagh could react. "I know that. Back when I was still with the Varden, I read _Domia abr Wyrda_. I was comparing the differences between them. Actually, this book is fairly accurate, but that might be because this is the king's private library."

Murtagh sighed. "I had really hoped you wouldn't give up. I did a long time ago, but I thought maybe that you would try and fight it. I mean, we have our dragons, but you have Roran and Arya and the Varden. I just thought that maybe the Varden could win."

Eragon felt a twinge of guilt as the names of his friends were called to mind. He wondered suddenly if they would have given up in the same position. There was no chance that Roran would have. Alone, against all chance of hoping, he had gone after the Ra'zaac to save his love, Katrina. She wouldn't give in either. He thought with a sigh. So long as there was the faintest glimmer of hope, they would grab for it.

His feelings over Arya were even more confused. He loved her. Eragon knew that beyond the shadow of doubt. He knew he would do anything to see her safe. The mere thought that the king would use him to injure her tore at his heart. He wished he had never grown close to her if only that she would be safe from the king's hand. He didn't know how Arya would act in his situation. She was stronger. He admitted to himself. He doubted she would give in.

And there was no way Saphira would have given up on him.

With a slight start, Eragon realized that Murtagh was still watching him. Eragon sighed. "I still wish to fight. It is just that, if I resist, I am sure to get even more rules and oaths. The tighter the net he weaves around me, the more difficult it will be to defy him when it is necessary.

* * *

><p>Eragon woke to a pressure on his mind. The king's voice rang through his head. <em>Come join me in the throne room in ten minutes. If you are late, you will be punished accordingly. <em>Eragon dragged himself out of his bed, a tight knot forming in his stomach. By the almost happy tone of the king's voice, he knew it couldn't be good.

With a few minutes to spare, Eragon arrived at the throne room and was immediately granted access. He walked in and the king smiled sickly at him. Sighing, Eragon bowed and then walked the rest of the way. "What do you want?" He asked wearily.

Eragon recoiled from a hard kick to the shin and Galbatorix leered.

"Master." Eragon grudgingly added.

"Good. Now, I want you to do something to prove your loyalty and to show you how we stand. Bring her here." He called back. A young girl, no more than ten, was led out by a rope and forced to kneel before Galbatorix. There was a look of terror in her eyes. She turned to Eragon suddenly.

"Please, Rider Eragon. Help me." She begged, beginning to cry. "Please."

The king laughed. "He will not help you. Eragon, take this, your father's sword." He handed the blade to Eragon who had no choice but to obey. "Now, I want you to kill her."

The girl's eyes widened and she looked pleadingly up at Eragon. "Help me."

Eragon dropped the sword. "No. I won't."

Anger flashed in the king's eyes and he swore, invoking Eragon's true name. "Pick up the sword. Now." Eragon bent and retrieved the sword. "Very good. Hmm. For your hesitation, she will suffer. Stab her but do not kill yet."

Eragon fought with all his will, trying to release the blade. It was making him sick. And the girl kept staring up at him with fear and sobbing. He managed to draw back the blade, away from her. The king whispered a word in the ancient language and Eragon was struck as with a whip, multiple times, tearing open the flesh of his back.

"Do it."

Eragon raised the blade, unable to resist more. The crying of the girl and the king's cruel laughter blended together as his body made to inflict torture on the girl. He wouldn't. Couldn't. The compulsion to obey overpowered him and Eragon did the only thing he could before he would torture the innocent little girl. He ended it. With a single stroke, too quick for her to feel the pain, he beheaded her.

Eragon was immediately sick. He dropped to his knees as the king began to beat him. "You. Did. Not. Obey." He punctuated each word with a stroke. Eragon closed his eyes, blocking out the terrible scene. The girl lay, dismembered on the floor in a pool of blood, done by his hand.

As Eragon was trying to stay conscious as the king's abuse grew, it ended. "Get up and get out of my sight. We will deal with your disobedience later."

Eragon hastened to obey, not looking back at the girl, but he knew he would never forget her, her small face, framed by dark, almost black hair and her large brown eyes, begging, pleading with him to come to her rescue. Eragon spat blood onto the floor from having bitten his tongue being beaten. Some hero he was.

Eragon walked without looking toward his rooms, tears streaming down his face. He nearly ran into Murtagh. "What happened to you?" He asked worriedly. "Are you going to your rooms? Wait. Come to mine. If the king comes looking, it will take him longer to find you." Eragon simply followed. Murtagh looked at him for a moment and then pressed a mug of strong mead into his hands. "You look like you need it."

Eragon drank quickly and then looked at his brother. Murtagh came over. "I'll heal you. I may get in trouble for it, but he has never done _that _much to me."

As he opened his mouth, Eragon flinched away. "No!" he took a breath as Murtagh stepped back. "The king. I am not allowed to be healed by magic."

Murtagh muttered under his breath and Eragon caught the word bastard several times. Then he sat on his bed. "What did you do to make him so angry?"

Eragon took a breath. "I disobeyed him directly."

"That's possible?"

"Not usually, no. At least I don't think so." Eragon though over the scenario, the mead helping his calm his mind drastically. "My true name. He tried to make me do something entirely against who I am. I… I couldn't."

"What did he tell you to do?"

Eragon opened his mouth and instead of speaking, found himself choking back a sob. He reached out to Murtagh's mind and felt the barriers lower. A stray thought from Murtagh let Eragon knew that this was the first time he had ever let anyone, willingly, inside his mind. Eragon conveyed the memory of what had happened to his brother and watched as his mouth twisted into a grimace.

"He has never made me… Oh." Murtagh looked at Eragon's state of distress. "He is trying to break you. You are his nameslave, but he never broke you. He tricked you into believing Saphira was in danger."

"I can't do this." Eragon whispered.

"If only we had that choice. All is lost."

His words struck cadence with a particular memory from his past. It seemed so long ago. The words drifted through his mind. _When all seems lost and your power is insufficient, go to the Rock of Kuthian and speak your name to open the Vault of Souls. _Eragon's eyes widened and he thought about it for a second. The Caverns of the Wind were only miles from Uru'baen.

"Eragon?" Murtagh asked.

Eragon snapped back to the present and fought off the pain of his injuries for a brief moment. Not knowing whether he was being foolish or not, Eragon decided to confide in Murtagh. "I'm going to run."

"He had to have commanded you not to."

Eragon thought back. "He commanded me to 'stay' at the castle. He didn't specify how long to stay."

"There is something wrong about that eragon. The king is no fool. He would not let you go like that. Unless…" Murtagh frowned. "Unless he intended for you to run. It would explain pushing you with the girl and beating you with no hope of being healed."

"Why would he let me run?"

"Because you are his nameslave. What happens when you show up at the final battle? He calls your name, you fight for him. You could capture Saphira for him. Make it easy. Also, your true name is less likely to change if you are in the same environment as you are used to."

Eragon looked down. It made sense. "I still have to try. I can't stay here, Murtagh. That girl. I see her eyes, watching me, begging. She begged me to help her and I killed her." Eragon held back the thought of the Rock of Kuthian. All definitely seemed lost, and his power was not enough to overcome the command of his true name.

Suddenly, Eragon knew that the time had come to seek out Solembum's advice. He was going to run.

**What did you think? Kind of gloomy to write, but I thought it wasn't bad. That is up to you guys to decide though. Review and tell me what you think!**

**P.S. Check out my other FanFiction. Please?**


	27. Back with the Varden

**A.N. My mother has been on my case about spending too much time on my computer. Yes, I can write for hours in a notebook, but as soon as I get out my laptop to type, she gets annoyed. So… I now type before she gets home and put of my homework until after. Not that it matters. Anyway, this went a bit faster. I hope you like it.**

Arya sent a thought out to find Blodhgarm to inform him of their return. She felt a faint sense of acknowledgement and withdrew. They walked slowly toward the werecats' encampment to the east of the city. She looked at the kitten in her hands and smiled slightly. It had opened its eyes the previous day. She realized with a twinge of regret that she would miss the kitten.

A werecat came out from the main group they were approaching and Arya recognized him as the king, Grimmr Halfpaw. The queen stalked over and rubbed her head against his neck in greeting. They conversed silently and then the king shifted to his human form and approached. He looked at the elven princess that was before him.

"I thank you for risking your life and safety to rescue my people."

Arya didn't know how to respond so she bowed her head. The king held out his arms and she handed him the kitten, Hali, who mewled quietly as she woke. Arya looked at the amber furred kitten and then at the king. "Would I be able to see her occasionally?"

The king looked to his mate and then smiled, showing his pointed teeth. "You may."

The infant was passed to a young mother and then the king and queen, with a small group of guards, walked toward the city. At the gates, a soldier took one look at them and opened the gates, recognizing Arya as trustworthy. She, flanked by the two werecats, drew many curios looks, but overall, the bustle of the city was absent. She sighed, wondering if they would ever recover from the loss they suffered.

Several of the castle guards left their posts and accompanied the new arrivals to the room where the Lady Nasuada was awaiting them. Once inside, Arya greeted her colleague and friend and then turned to make introduction. "Lady Nasuada, you know the King of the Werecats, Grimmr Halfpaw." Nasuada acknowledged him politely. "And this is the Werecat Queen, Rhinn Whiteclaw."

A hint of surprise entered Nasuada's features and she greeted the queen properly. "Now, may I ask what occurred?"

They turned to Arya and she recounted the events of she and Saphira's rescue endeavor, telling of the overwhelming odds against them and the removal of the spellcasters, climaxing at the freeing of the werecats and the ensuing battle against the painless warriors of Galbatorix.

Nasuada was impressed and questioned her a bit further before discussing the werecat's position and how to contact them if they were suddenly needed or required assistance in turn. A while later, after the werecat nobility had left to return to their subjects, Nasuada turned to Arya and her expression grew tired. She no longer bothered to hide her fatigue in front of the princess.

"What went on between you and Saphira?"

Arya looked surprised. "May I ask why?"

"She has abandoned the Varden and will not respond to anyone who calls her. She attacked Wyrda who was saving me from her wrath, and Thorn had to drive her away. She has not since returned."

Arya paled and needed to sit down. "I'm sorry, Eragon." She whispered to herself, but Nasuada heard.

"Why would you apologize to him? Did you insult Saphira or offend her?" Arya could see that Nasuada did not believe either of those options.

Arya shook her head. "I made a promise to Eragon that in the event of his absence, I would watch over Saphira. I had hoped she would cool down, but it seems I have failed my promise. I fear if I go near Saphira, she would not react well. All we can hope is that she will come to her senses before it is too late."

"What caused this rift?"

A sigh escaped Arya's lips. "I confronted her. She was being childish and petty. When I tried to speak with her, she became angry, accused me of not caring for Eragon, and broke our friendship." Arya stood. "If you do not mind, I sense Wyrda is returning from a hunt."

"By all means, go."

Arya took her leave and left, making her way out into the gardens. Vanir looked up from where he was reading a tome on a stump next to the pond. Thorn raised his head and blinked in greeting. The dragon had only rarely spoken to her. Then she saw the emerald figure diving toward her. When he was dangerously close, Wyrda flared his long wings and landed skillfully only ten feet from Arya with a proud look of satisfaction.

Then, he lowered his head to hang right in front of her and pressed his head gently into her chest. _I missed you. _He said to her in his quiet, expressive voice.

Arya wrapped her arms around his head and leaned her cheek against his warm scales, closing her eyes in the wonderful sense of being complete once again. _I missed you too. _They opened their minds completely to each other and allowed the memories from the time they had been apart and allowed it to blend. Wyrda growled his approval at the battle won and she felt his comprehension as he saw the scene which led to Saphira breaking relations with Arya. In return, Arya observed his practice flight sessions with Thorn and The red dragon's teachings of fighting and survival. She also experienced him stepping between an infuriated Saphira and Nasuada, taking the blow for her. The memory of his pain, the first real pain the dragon had experienced, struck her hard, but not nearly as hard as the feelings that followed.

Wyrda let out a quiet whimper as he was forced to remember as his rider experienced the memory of the event. The dragoness he admired so greatly, his teacher and master and friend, the one he looked up to, had attacked him without reason. The sense of betrayal and misplaced guilt fell heavy on Arya's heart as she tried to reassure her dragon. The hurt Saphira had caused as she flew away, in pain and without a hint of remorse, had left the little dragon feeling completely alone. It had taken Thorn hours to get the little dragon to speak.

She rubbed the hollow beneath his chin, trying to calm him. _Nothing is your fault, Wyrda. It is hers and mine. She was wrong to bring you into it._

_I know but… _He broke off. _Do you think she will come back?_

Arya had long been aware of the way her dragon looked up to Saphira. It was almost hero-worship. _I don't know, Wyrda._

He lay down and Arya sat between his front legs, his neck curled so that he could watch her. For a while, the two sat in silent companionship, simply enjoying being in each other's presence once again, but after a while, Arya stood. The small white werecat that had chosen to accompany Eragon was walking through the snow.

She had been waiting for Alia to make an appearance. Arya jogged over. "Alia." The wercat looked at her and then ignored her, continuing toward Eragon's cabin. "Wait. I want to talk to you."

_Well I have no desire to stand her in the snow. Just let me be._ The werecat continued toward the door.

Arya was confused. "What have I done to offend you?" She was determined to make it up as soon as possible. Having a werecat upset with you was never a good thing.

_It's not you_. Alia sniffed, the equivalent of a sigh. She lifted a paw and Arya looked closely, hiding a smile as she realized what was bothering the werecat. Her voice became slightly embarrassed as well as annoyed. _Snow in your paws has to be the most uncomfortable feeling there is. Come inside and then we can talk if you really want to._

Arya had managed to hide her amusement. Every so often the werecat showed her youth, but it was still odd to see a werecat acting anything but the stiffly formal, proud beings she was used to in Maud and Solembum. Wyrda, however, being young, could not help himself and laughed quietly at the werecat.

_That is what has you in such a mood?_

The werecat spun, growling at the dragon warningly. _Would you like to say more?_

Arya was debating whether to step in, but decided to watch. She had not seen this side of her dragon before and was curious. He seemed to have changed wven in the short time they had been separated. Not so short, Arya amended when she considered the dragon's young age.

Wryda tilted his head, pausing for a second. _No. But I think I shall call you Snowflake from now. _Arya suddenly realized from a memory Wyrda sent to her that the two had spent lots of time together in the week she had been gone. He was teasing the werecat.

Alia hissed. _You would not dare._

_You so sure about that, Snowflake?_

Trying to preserve some of her dignity, as well as being almost ready to pounce at the young dragon and still having snow in her paws, Alia slipped through the door with Arya right behind her. She went and sat in front of a dying fire and began to lick her paws slowly.

Arya whispered a word in the ancient language and the snow melted suddenly. Alia looked up in surprise and then seemed to smile. _Now what was it that you needed to ask me?_

Arya considered how to phrase a question. "You know where I went and what happened?"

_I know where you were going to and why. I know that you and Saphira were successful, but I do not know any of the details._

Briefly, Arya filled her in on the details and then moved to what she had been wondering about since it had happened. "The queen did something I did not understand and when I asked one of the other werecats, he was vague and avoided the question.

She sat back and cocked her head. _Did you offer to answer a question of his in return?_

"Should I have?"

_Yes. To our people, you probably seemed either ignorant or rude. Now, just ask your question. I am curious as to what my queen did that confused you._

Arya smiled slightly and explained the situation with Hali. As soon as she started though, the werecat's eyes went wide. Arya paused. "What is it? What is the significance?"

Alia's tail twitched as she looked at Arya intently. _She has declared you friend of the werecat people. The last to be called this died two hundred years before the fall._ With that, Alia stood and slipped to the door. _I must speak to the queen. _She passed through the door, leaving Arya deep in thought.

**Not quite sure what I think about that one. Eragon is next chapter. I was going to put him in but then decided just to get this out there. Please leave a review and let me know what you think!**


	28. Escape

**A.N. This chapter is actually a good length. My siblings are gone this weekend and I really had nothing better to do. It was either write or help my mom rake. Why she decided right after it rained so we could rake the wet leaves instead of waiting for them to dry… Oh! I keep seeing how New York already has snow and I'm so jealous. It's been a couple of years since we had snow by Halloween and I can't wait. By April everyone is sick of it but for now. Please snow. But you probably couldn't care less. So just ignore me and read the chapter. Enjoy!**

Eragon wandered the castle aimlessly, biding his time to when the sun would set. Late in the night, during the darkest part before dawn, he would attempt to flee this hellhole. The little girl's face swam in his mind. That was not the killing that went on in battle. No. He had committed murder. The king had forced him to do it, but not entirely. He had finally ordered him to torture her and he had decided that it was better she die before he gave in. He had consciously decided to end her life. And now he would never forget those wide tear-filled eyes the moment before all light left them forever.

A servant rushed over to him and nodded, placing a folded note in his hand before dashing off again. Eragon opened it with a twinge of apprehension. It bore the kings writing. Taking a deep breath, he began to read.

_Eragon, you will be joining me for dinner today. Be happy for the honor bestowed upon you for not many do I consent to allow to dine with me alone. There is also the matter of your subversion. Next time, you will kill when I tell you to kill or you will not like the consequences. That is all. Do not be late._

He sighed in relief. For a moment he had worried the king had found out about his plan, but that was not the case. His stomach twisted at the mention of more killings. He could only hope that they would be delayed at least until the next day. He knew he just might break if he had to do what he had done that morning again.

A few hours later, dressed in the red cloak the king had supplied him with, Eragon paused outside the door to the king's dining hall. He knew he had to be one step ahead of the enemy, and, though he believed the king did not know of his plans to run away, the possibility of the king assaulting his mind was not unlikely. If he discovered the plot there, all would be ruined. Eragon put all thought of that out of his head by concentrating on things that mattered to him. The thoughts of Saphira and Arya gave him motivation to keep going and to do what was necessary. Roran, his link to his past and his family also filled him. Katrina was pregnant, and they were counting on him to provide safety in the world their young child would grow up in.

New determination ran through Eragon's veins. In forcing Eragon to kill an innocent, though he had succeeded in destroying the riders hope at first, the king had managed to drive him to new levels of resolve to destroy the king once and for all. The knowledge that his dragon was as much an evil as the rest of the Forsworn were also eliminated the qualms he had about taking the dragon's life in the fear that Shruikan was as much the prisoner as Thorn had been. Eragon entered the chamber.

The first thing he felt was an attack on his mind. Gritting his teeth, Eragon managed to stay on his feet. In a few seconds, the king withdrew, leaving Eragon with a throbbing headache and slight dizziness.

"How sweet it is of you to be so determined to help your friends. Don't worry though; we will beat that out of you yet."

Eragon did not respond, but the word of another beating made him want to cringe. At the moment, from the king's fit of anger earlier in the day, Eragon could not move without causing himself pain. The knowledge that a few words would completely heal him, words at the tip of his tongue but unable to leave there, only worsened it. But Eragon swallowed it and went on. If all went right, this would be the end of this place.

"Yes, master."

A smile formed on the king's face. "Good, Eragon, you are learning. Come and sit."

Eragon obeyed and several of his servants delivered a steaming plate of roast lamb and garlic to the table, the scents causing Eragon to believe, and he was most likely correct, that the meal set before him would be one of the best tasting he had had. A dish of seasoned rice and a loaf of still warm freshly baked bread followed and then a servant filled their glasses with a fine wine before they were left alone.

The king broke the bread, giving part to eragon and then nodded that he could eat. Eragon took the king's food without holding back. It was delicious and he would need his strength for what he was planning anyway. The king ate, seemingly content to let the meal pass mostly in silence until he looked up at the boy before him.

"Your father is not Morzan, was it?"

Eragon swallowed, hating that the king had commanded him not to lie. "No master, my father was Brom."

He nodded, thinking. "But you are Murtagh's half brother?"

"Yes, master, I am."

"What do you think your father would think of you now, eating with me in my own halls?"

Eragon almost smiled as he knew exactly what Brom would have said. He would have given him that exasperated look he had received so often from his father and then he would have received a berating about how deep of a mess he had dug himself into once again. "He would be disappointed." Brom had always hoped Eragon would win. Even the slightest chance had been enough for him to believe in his son.

"I never had the pleasure of meeting your father as so many of my Forsworn did. I would have enjoyed ripping him apart as he deserved. It pleases me that he is finally dead after all these years. Too bad it wasn't sooner though." Eragon couldn't respond.

"I do so enjoy using his sword though. To kill those he would have given himself to save with his own weapon is too fun. Perhaps when you are fully devoted to serving me, not only because of your name, I will allow you to use it. I have other swords you know, quite a collection and of all colors too. It is only unfortunate that I did not find a black one. Don't you think?"

"Of course, master."

"You may leave, Eragon. I will put off until tomorrow morning the discussion of your disobedience because you have been so obedient tonight." Eragon, taking his dismissal, walked to the door. "Remember that there is no good or evil. There is the strong and the weak and those that are weak are meant to be under those of us who are strong." Just as he was about to pass through the door, the king spoke one last time.

"And Eragon?" He called out, causing the rider to pause and turn to hear the king. "Her name was Lily."

Eragon turned and ran, his composure breaking as soon as the door to his room slammed shut. Eragon punched the wooden door to his room with all of his strength, leaving a splintered hole in the wood, but he didn't care. His hand throbbed, but was undamaged thanks to the thick calluses his knuckles bore. But at the moment, he would have welcomed the pain. The king had given him a name to match the face that floated before his eyes.

"Lily." He whispered. "I'm sorry." Eragon could not stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks. He tried to breathe deeply to control himself, but it wasn't working. Finally giving up, Eragon collapsed to the bed allowing himself to be carried away in grief.

* * *

><p>The late evening sun cast a glow on the pure white snow that rested everywhere on the ground now. The colors the sunset cast on the clouds were a deep pink, verging on red with gold mixed in. The darkening sky had turned a beautiful purple. For the first night in a long time, Arya felt relaxed. She had allowed herself to cry and Wyrda had been there to comfort her. With all the weight off her chest and looking at the magnificent display of nature as she leaned against her humming dragon's side, she was exactly where she belonged at last.<p>

The only thing that she really wanted was for Eragon to be there. Her mind strayed to the rider that had captured her heart without her even realizing it. For a moment, she wondered what Eragon was doing at the moment, but then she tried to force the possibilities out of her mind. She knew what Galbatorix's policy towards his political prisoners was. He was no doubt being tortured. Or Saphira could have been right. If he had given in… She wouldn't be able to hurt him. She was as unable as she was to injure Wyrda. Images of Eragon destroying the Varden and her people spun through her head, followed by the alternative, Eragon strapped to a metal table, a rack of torture devises beside his bed, his screams echoing through the dungeon.

_Arya! _Her dragon called her from her thoughts.

She traced a spiral pattern on one of her dragon's scales. _Thank you. I needed that. _Arya forced her mind to a different topic, a happier one, her dragon.

She was disrupted by the intrusion of Blodhgarm on her peace. The sun had set and she was ready to go and try to sleep. He touched his lips and greeted her. Arya returned the greeting and sat up straighter, listening to see what the elf had to say.

"I and three of our number are going to search out Saphira, leaving at dawn tomorrow morning. I came to inform you. The remaining number will guard you, Wyrda and Thorn."

Arya frowned. "I don't think that would be a good idea. You did not speak to Saphira. She has no intentions of changing her mind. I have a feeling when the time comes she will fight, but until then she plans to have nothing to do with the Varden. If that was not enough, the queen of the werecats warned me against approaching Saphira before she was ready. Alia also said much the same to Nasuada. Because of this, I would think it best for you not to go."

"Your imput is appreciated, Arya Drottningu, but I am afraid we must go to her. We swore an oath that we would protect Eragon and Saphira. We have failed Eragon in letting him be captured, and we will not fail Saphira. She is unsafe out in the woods alone, and we must defend her. We will be careful."

Arya knew that tone of voice. It had bothered her so much since Eragon had been taken. All the elves spoke to her as if she were about to either blow up or run away crying and several times, it had ended with her yelling at them until they slunk away, avoiding her for days.

"Blodhgarm. You can stop looking at me like that. I'm not going to yell or attack you. In fact, I apologize for my actions. The elves were not the reason for my distress and I should not have taken it out on you."

"You had reason for your grief."

"It was inexcusable."

Blodhgarm nodded to her. "If you wish, shall I convey your apologies to the others?"

"Yes. Do that." Blodhgarm left. Arya leaned back. _I have a bad feeling about this._

_As do I._ Wyrda agreed, breathing a cloud of smoke into the air. _I have been on the receiving end of her anger and I do not wish it upon anyone._

Arya felt the pain that always accompanied her dragon's memory of that event. She laid a hand on his side. _It's alright, Wyrda. We're in this together._

_Why did I have to hatch now? _He asked melancholically. _Everything is wrong. We are in the middle of a war and everyone is fighting. Even Saphira has abandoned us._

Arya knew the war was even harder on her dragon than it was on her. He shaired her grief of friends lost, including Faolin, but Wyrda knew nothing but being ready to fight and defend himself at a moment's notice. When someone approached, he was immediately ready to attack. It was not how it should be. _Somehow everything will straighten itself out, Wyrda, and when it does, we will relax and not become bothered in everyone else's problems._

_That would be nice._

He yawned widely, his jaw cracking. Arya smiled. _I'm keeping you up. You are still growing and need your sleep. Good night, Wyrda. _She stood and embraced his head.

As she was walking away, he responded sleepily. _Good night, Little One. _He used Saphira's affectionate form of address for Eragon. She was smiling as she retired for the night.

* * *

><p>Eragon, however, was not sleeping peacefully. He lay wide awake in his large bed, too anxious to even get a few moment of rest before he ran for it. Murtagh had stopped him in the halls and grabbed his hand, transferring a large amount of energy from his own body into Eragon's before walking on. Eragon was grateful for that help. He was exhausted and he would need all the energy he had.<p>

The palace was quiet. Occasionally the noise of a mouse skittering across the halls reached his finely tuned ears, but other than that there was nothing. It was the time of the night where none of the servants were awake. Those cleaning late into the night had finished, and those that rose early to prepare everything for the day would not wake for over an hour yet. Only the sentries would still be awake in the entire expanse of the castle.

It was time.

Eragon dressed quickly into his warmest clothing and covered it all with a long black cloak. He had a small bag of food that he had managed to sneak from the table without anyone noticing. He couldn't very well ask for food or get if himself without arousing the suspicion he wished to avoid. He had two full canteens of water and a thin blanket that he bundled everything together in and slung it over his shoulder, wincing as it pressed on a bruise.

He walked to the door. The king always had it locked from the outside at night after Eragon had gone out there. He wasn't quite sure why, but he knew it wasn't a problem. He knelt by the handle and whispered in the ancient language. On the other side of the door, a ball of water formed from the air and he brought it into the lock. Once it was inside, he spoke again and it froze, unlocking the door as it pressed on the lever inside the lock.

He took the chance.

Turning himself invisible, Eragon opened the door. The hall was dark but he did not wish to ris a light. Throughout the course of the day, Eragon had memorized the path to a smaller side entrance and walked there slowly, trying to stop the sounds of the leather boots hitting the stone. A door creaked and Eragon froze. No other sound followed. He moved on.

Finally he arrived at the door. No one guarded it as you had to know the password, but Eragon had learned it from Murtagh as his brother tried his best to help. He felt slightly guilty that Murtagh would take the fall for this, but that was not important at the moment. This was for the greater good. The Varden would need him. And, depending on what secrets the Rock of Kuthian held, he might be able to help. He now knew his true name from the king and Eragon knew now was the moment to which Solembum referred to in Teirm.

At the word, the door swung open and Eragon stepped out into the gardens surrounding the castle.

Almost.

He counted ten sentries by their lanterns within his line of sight on the castle wall, each of them watching their own section while keeping track of their fellow sentries. Eragon neared the wall, invisibly and raised himself with magic to the wall. A sentry passed only feet from him, but noticed nothing. As he passed, unsuspecting, Eragon swung his feet on to the wall and lightly stood. Pausing for a moment, he walked to the other side and lowered himself magically to the ground.

He was out.

All that remained was the city. Eragon began to run as soon as he was a safe distance from the men guarding the walls. The palace was in the exact center of Uru'baen, built as a last refuge for if the city was attacked. One would have to sieze the city first and then overpower the castle. It was built perfectly for defense. Knowing his destination, he headied south towars the Caverns of the wind, praying to any god there was that he would find anything to help his predicament. The final outer wall of the city was tall, but it was no defense to keep in him with the help of magic.

Free.

Eragon broke into a run, stretching his legs out in a determined sprint to put distance between him and the place he had come to so deeply despise. He looked back, the city a looming shadow against the dark horizon. As he ran, he felt the scabbed over wounds on his body reopen and begin to leak trails of blood down his body. But he kept running. Fate had chosen to give him difficulty and it had succeeded. He knew he had to fight the pain, fight the weariness and run.

He was there.

The Caverns of the Wind. The city was no longer visible on the horizon, but the first streaks of light were. He had run for hours without pause. Eragon looked at the crumbled white marble before him. In the center was a gaping hole that led down under the earth. Eragon could almost tangibly feel the magic surrounding the place, but it did not feel friendly. Rather, the whole place made him feel as if it was telling him to go away, watching his every move. His muscles trembling, Eragon approached the entrance of the huge cave, broken boards failing to completely cover the gaping maw, and took a breath. Looking into the sinister depths, he slipped through the boards and was engulfed on darkness.

This was it.

**I kind of liked writing this chapter. For the first time in who knows how long I wrote a decent length chapter. Please review and give me your thoughts Was it good? Bad? Interesting? Click the button and tell me. Just a little more incentive, if we reach two hundred this chapter, the two hundredth person gets the chapter dedicated to them. So don't be afraid. Click the button.**


	29. Caverns of the Wind

**A.N. This one is a good length. Enjoy it and don't forget to tell me what you think!**

**And this chapter is dedicated to ****orthodoxyordeath**** for having the two hundredth review. Your feedback and dedication are greatly appreciated. This one is for you.**

His boots hit the smooth stone floor, sending echoing thuds resounding through the endless tulles he knew spread before him. Slowly advancing into the darkness, Eragon knew that his eyes would not adjust to the light as there was none. His surroundings were black as pitch and he walked with his right hand trailing along the cool, smooth walls. Far enough into the caves that a light would not reach beyond the cave, Eragon whispered a brief word in the ancient language and a small light flickered on his palm. It lasted only the briefest instant before sputtering out like a candle doused in water.

Eragon swore quietly under his breath. Any advantage he could have possibly had in theses caverns was lost. He knew neither what direction he went nor what lay ahead. But there was nothing else to do but continue on.

Behind him lay the king and his slavery whether he was in Uru'baen or with the Varden. No, he needed to press on. Ahead lay the unknown and a faint hope. Behind, all hope had been lost. Taking a deep breath, Eragon pressed forward, following the widest path in the hope that it would lead him right.

A sudden gust of hot air from the depths of the cavern gusted past him, plastering his cloak against him. As it moved through the caverns, a low whistle sounded from all directions. Eragon shook of the tension in his shoulders and rubbed his arms to rid himself of goose bumps which had sprung up. The Caverns of the Wind were known for that eerie whistle. Then it stopped, as suddenly as it had begun and Eragon continued, shaking his head. He would not let wind, no matter from where it came, frighten him.

Still shaken, he moved on. For miles the tunnel went on, sloping gently downward into the earth. Slowly, the temperature was rising, but Eragon ignored it. There were more important things.

Soon, as he walked, his ears strained to pick up the echo of a noise still far in the distance. Echoing through the caverns was a woman's voice, rising and falling in graceful cadence, carrying through the tunnels. He frowned; no one would be down here. There was no food and he had not heard nor felt water.

Still, when he reached a fork in the tunnel, each side of equal width, Eragon angled toward the woman's voice. As he closed the distance, the notes became louder, changing from a mysterious and beautiful melody to words. Eragon listened closely, but the words were foreign to his ear, sung in some unknown language.

Though the words were incomprehensible, the message in her voice was clear, a song of great sadness, but at the same time, pure joy, mixed together in a way Eragon knew he would never later be able to describe to anyone who had not heard it themselves. It was close, Eragon could tell. He wanted to speak with the woman, to ask her name. The curiosity drawing him nearer and nearer mounted. But then, when he knew he was only several paces from the woman, her voice cut off mid note.

A cold presence from the direction of the woman passed over him, leaving his muscles shaking and his mind in shock. The sudden absence of the voice and the cool presence that he touched him left Eragon trembling and dizzy, leaning against the wall to support himself. There was not silence though, he came to realize as he settled but a faint rustle, almost to quiet to pick up even with his elven hearing.

He returned to walking, feeling his magic stir within him. He must be near. A shadow brushed by him, trailing his arm with a cool, ephemeral touch. The presence of a shadow where there was no light both frightened and fascinated Eragon and he tried to focus his eyes on it, but realized that it seemed almost as if it was darker than the black surrounding them, a void that should not be there.

It whispered quietly, words of regret and of longing, but in the same haunting language the woman had been singing in. Then it was gone, seemingly pulled down the tunnel. Eragon followed slowly, warily as he did not know what manner of creatures these were that haunted the caverns.

A small faint glow caught Eragon's eye as he walked towards the rustle he had heard before and the direction the shadow had gone. He walked toward it and then bent to pick up a small and sharp piece of stone that was glowing faintly with a greenish light. How long had it been since he had seen light? Hours at least. He was hungry, but Eragon did not want to break for a meal in the dark, unknown he was traveling. The small rock did not cast light enough to see, but Eragon slipped it into his pocket anyway.

The rustling was growing steadily louder and Eragon recognized the sound finally. It was the sound of rushing water over rock, gurgling softly as it crossed the shallows.

A green-blue glow, the same as the small chip of stone he had found came from a way in the distance. Eragon did not even hesitate at the crossroad by the river, heading toward the water and the glow. Without thought, Eragon forged his way into the river, only to wince terribly when he did. The water was hot, nearly boiling, and salty. As it soaked his bruised skin and open cuts, it stung as if they were newly inflicted. Gritting his teeth, Eragon waded until his foot struck solid land. His feet slid across the slippery wet stone, but as he took a few more steps, it became dry and he regained sturdy footing.

The glowing cavern only lay feet away, and Eragon stepped through, into the strange light. A massive cavern opened before him, lit by the light of a massive pillar of stone. At the base, the glowing obelisk was the width of Saphira when she curled into a ball. As it reached up, perhaps fifty feet to reach the domed ceiling, it tapered slightly. The colossal rock pulsed with waves of blue and green light as if it were living.

Awed, Eragon approached. He could feel the raw magical energy coming off the obelisk, hitting him in waves, drawing him neared. It was almost within reach and Eragon stretched his hand to touch it, even lightly.

A form suddenly materialized before him. A transparent hand struck him in the chest sending him to the ground. Eragon winced and then backed away, trying to get to his feet. A tall figure, pale and translucent, about ten feet high, and the general shape of a man gazed down at him through a gray haze that surrounded him.

Eragon knelt, knowing that if he fought this… thing, it would surely kill him. The sheer magical energy of the thing was overwhelming. Even as he knelt, more of the beings appeared around him. Eragon raised his face. The first bent down as if examining Eragon and then straightened.

His voice, clear but with a strange lilt, suddenly spoke to Eragon.

"You dare intrude upon our most sacred domain?"

* * *

><p>Arya's eyes opened, but she did not move from her bed, content to lie under the warm covers, savoring the heat until she knew she would have to rise and go out into the cold winter air.<p>

Wyrda was already awake, his voice intruded upon her peace. _Lazy elf._

She groaned, rolling over. It was too early to get up and she was not awake enough yet to deal with her dragon. _Leave me alone, Wyrda. Go back to sleep._

She felt him snort through the link. _Do you realize what time it is? _He asked amusedly, projecting an image of the sun, well over the horizon.

Arya sighed, sitting up and dragging her blanket around her shoulders. She yawned again and stretched. It was late, but it had felt good.

_Oh, and someone is here to see you._

_Who? _Arya asked, getting ready. _Did you keep them waiting long because of me?_

_You haven't been sleeping well lately. You need your rest._

_Wyrda. _She said, her patience slipping. Sometimes he was still like a hatchling. _Who is there?_

_A werecat._

"Barzul." Arya swore, dressing hurriedly and braiding her hair with deft fingers to keep it from her eyes. She shook her head at her dragon. Fool lizard, keeping a werecat waiting so she could sleep in. In a few minutes, Arya pulled on her boots and opened the door.

Waiting there and pacing quietly was the queen of the werecats. Arya cursed at Wyrda in her head, ignoring the startled protests as the dragon heard her. She nodded politely to the queen.

"I apologize, your majesty, my dragon did not find it appropriate to wake me and alert me of a visitor." She glared at Wyrda until he lowered his hear.

Wyrda nudged her arm lightly, guilt and slight confusion coming to her. _I'm sorry. _He said, whining slightly.

Arya sighed again and curtailed her anger. She could not remain angry at her dragon, especially when he apologized and looked at her like that. She turned to him. _It is fine, Wyrda. Next time though, if I have a visitor, wake me up. _He bobbed his head.

The queen was watching them in the form of a cat. _I take no offense. You had no way of knowing I was here and your dragon meant no harm. But I come with a topic of serious nature._ She paused to lick some snow from her paw. Arya shook her head at her dragon's amusement. Teasing Alia was one thing, but he ought to leave the queen alone.

She raised her head. _As Alia alerted me of you awareness, I know you are aware that I have named you friend of the werecats. I now ask you aid gravely. The kit that you watched over has fallen ill and our healers can do nothing for it_.

Arya woke up completely. Little Hali was that ill? "I'll see what I can do." Arya glanced at her dragon and consulted him briefly. "Wyrda gives consent to bear you to your people with me."

She flicked her tail, looking at the dragon. _An honor._

Arya mounted her dragon and waited for the werecat to leap onto Wyrda's back before she asked him to take off. After a smooth flight and landing, of which Arya was thankful, they dismounted. Arya followed the queen, ignoring the often curious, often evaluating stared of the other werecats. Some she recognized from the group that her and Saphira had saved, but most were unknown to her.

They arrived at a small tent which was far to short for Arya to enter, but as the queen looked at it, it enlarged, becoming elf sized. She entered and found two werecats crouched beside a basket with the tiny kitten within.

Looking first for permission, Arya lifted her out. She mewled pitifully and Arya felt a pang of pity for the infant. All she had known were pain and suffering. Arya examined the kitten with gentle probes of magic and frowned.

"I fear this is beyond what I feel comfortable fixing in one as young and weak as she with magic." The queen's head shot up. Arya cradled the kitten against her chest, keeping her warm. "I do however, know of one who may be able to help though I do not know if you would approve."

"Speak. Who is it?"

Arya met her eyes. "Angela."

The werecat's fur rose on end and she hissed angrily. _That one! She will not touch any child of ours. Her and that traitor Solembum will keep well away._

Arya tried gently to reason with the infuriated cat. "I know not what she did, but this kitten is dying and it is beyond my abilities. You may forget your grudge with the herbalist, or let Hali die."

The queen glared at her and then her eyes fell on the kit. _Bring her to the herbalist. But do not allow the king to know._

Arya felt the pit she was stepping into. "May I ask what her and the werecat Solembum did to earn this?" She asked, trying to get a feel for how deep the waters were.

The queen sat back on her haunches, hissing slightly. _Solembum was prince of the werecats. He and that herbalist tried to overthrow my mate and take the throne from him for Solembum. He is a traitor and she is despicable. _The queen spat before refusing to speak more.

"I will not allow the kitten out of my sight while Angela is with her. You will not have to worry."

_Thank you. If you can help her, we owe you a great debt, even greater than before._

Arya went to her dragon, cradling the kitten against her as they flew toward the herbalist's quarters. Arya trusted Angela, the herbalist had saved her life. Besides, the event must have taken place long ago, for Angela was connected with the Varden a long ways back. But still, she would be careful. She looked at the tiny life in her hands and hoped she was making the right decision. Arya sought out Angela in her quarters.

* * *

><p>"You!" The king yelled, wking Murtagh from his sleep with a clout to the face. Murtagh winced as his mind was raped by the king. The king came across the memories in Murtagh's mind and hit him again. "You knew of this." He growled, his voice suddenly controlled and dangerously quiet. "What do you have to say about this?"<p>

Murtagh sat up, wiping blood from nose from the king's blow. "You never commanded me to let you know if he tried to flee. You instructed me to watch him in case he tried to escape. You said nothing of stopping him." Murtagh said, forced to speak the truth.

"You fool." The king growled. "Why do you play this game? You can't win. You are even fighting for your enemies. They will kill you without a second thought. You are a traitor. Pathetic. Despicable. All you are doing is setting up your own death." The king hit him again, but Murtagh did not make a sound.

He looked up quietly. "You planned on letting him go anyway, master."

"Insolent boy. I had not broken him. He, unlike you, actually bears the pain. It took more than torture and the promise of power and glory to persuade him to join."

The king laughed. "I bet you never told your precious brother that, did you? How you offered to serve me when I promised you power. When I offered to stop the pain. He, Eragon resisted. I had to convince him I was torturing his dragon before he would give in. And still he did not submit. He never offered to serve me as you did. He even resisted his name." The king caught Murtagh's jaw with a fist.

"You are weak. I offered you power and you repeatedly failed me. The only reason you are alive is because I wish to posess your dragon. I let him keep his heart of hearts because you promised to serve, but if I ever see him again, you will watch as I rip him to pieces after he gives his heart to me. You will watch as your dragon is destroyed."

Murtagh bet his tongue and closed his eyes. Everything the king said was truth. Harsh. Bitter. Truth. He had not been able to tell Eragon that he had believed the king's lies about power and shared glory. He had given in to avoid the pain. And now he was paying the price.

"I did not intend for Eragon to escape yet because I had plans for him. I wanted him at my feet, groveling. And because you let him escape, his punishment will fall on your own back. You will take it for him. How does that sound?"

Murtagh was thrown to the floor. The king leered at him and then kicked him in the ribs, and Murtagh gasped as he felt them crack. Coughing, he laid still. Early on he ahd learned that strugglilg made everything worse. The king removed a whip from his belt and snapped it, causing Murtagh to flinch and tense up in anticipation.

The first strike landed solidly on his back, causing him to cry out quietly. The king raised if again and let it land on his cracked ribs, magnifying the pain of the lash. At Murtagh's pained cry, he smirked and pressed on the ribs with his boot, laughing as the man cried out in agony. After a sound lashing and more kicks, the king shook his head.

"You're disgusting. I'll be back to deal with you. I am going to go search for Eragon and you better hope I find him."

Murtagh lay on the floor, unable to move or talk for what felt like hours before the king returned. The door was kicked in. "I didn't see him." He said, slamming the door. "Is this what you wanted, Murtagh? Is it? To lie in a pool of your own blood for hours, unable to move or speak, in terrible pain?"

"Well?" He walked over. "Answer me."

"No." He croaked, wincing as pain ripped through his chest.

"I didn't think so. Come now. There is more for you. Waise hael." The injuries sealed only enough to allow Murtagh to walk. He followed, limping and wincing at every step as he was forced to match the king's gait. They entered a room.

"Yes, this is what your brother loved so much, but as you so kindly allowed him to escape, it is all yours now."

A girl was led before him and his stomach clenched. He had felt sick when Eragon told him. "Now. I want to hear her scream. Do it."

Later, Murtagh stood shaking, his blood and the girl's mixed on his hands. She had finally died. Murtagh had tears streaming down his face as the king clapped mockingly.

"How did that feel, Murtagh? Is that the kind of power you desired. She was helpless before you just as you wished."

"Bastard." Murtagh said, unable to prevent himself, the horror at what he had just done overwhelming.

"You will pay for that." Murtagh fell not a minute to the king's abuse.

_Brother. _His broken voice called out as his mind passed into the darkness.

**I was going to do one more part with Eragon, but it is already over three thousand and I wanted to get one out today. By the way, did anyone go trick-or-treating or dress up? Happy Halloween!**

**P.S. Check out my other story, the story of Angela the Herbalist from her childhood onward. I know you would like it. So give it a look.**

**P.P.S. Don't forget to review!**


	30. The Vault of Souls

**A.N. A good chapter to be the thirtieth. Anyway, this was probably the most difficult chapter to write that I have turned out so far. I don't know what it was, but here it is. It's decent length, only Eragon's POV because I wanted to get it out tonight. So… START READING!**

Eragon looked up at the being before him, thinking of what he could say. Simple honesty immediately seemed to be the best response. If the being smote him down for telling the truth… Well, it was all he could do.

"I did not mean to intrude. I knew not where I went."

The being considered him. "Give us a reason not to destroy you where you kneel at this instant."

Eragon took a breath. "Because I come not for my own good, but for the good of all."

There was a long silence. Several of the beings moved around, but they made no noise. Then, the first one nodded. "Very well." He examined Eragon. "I need not ask who you are for I can see, Eragon, Leader of the Riders. Come tell me, what do you seek?"

"Freedom from the king's hand." Eragon answered. "Or a way to defeat him." Eragon stood as the creature waved him up. With at least the assurance that he was not in immediate danger of being killed, Eragon decided to venture a question. "May I ask what manner of being you are?" he asked curiously.

"We are what remain of the Grey Folk, preeminent of sentient beings."

Eragon's eyes widened in surprise. These were the ones who had bound magic to the Ancient Language, the most powerful of those to have inhabited Alagaesia.

"Why do you live so deep under the earth?"

The first stepped back into the main group and another stepped forward. Slightly shorter, she had the same voice that Eragon had heard singing on the way. "Tell me, human, if we were to return to the lands above, what would your people do if we returned to the lands above? Would they not seek to destroy us or to keep us away? There are not so many of us left alive that we can spare many of our own. No, we have felt pushed to return to where we began. We stand guard over this cavern, most sacred of places."

Eragon watched the glowing column of rock pulsate, filling the cavern with its blue-green light. "And that is the Rock of Kuthian?"

"That is what you would know it as, yes."

Eragon recalled the words of Solembum. He was to speak his name to open the Vault of Souls. Eragon looked around at the beings surrounding him and then at the current speaker. He knew to tread carefully; they had already mentioned that this cavern and the rock within were considered holy in their eyes.

He glanced at the strange obelisk. "I was given instruction from a werecat that I should come here when my power seemed insufficient and all seemed lost. What did he mean?"

The original, or at least the one Eragon believed was, addressed him again. "When we were allowed the duty of protecting the rock, we were also assigned a rule that whosoever navigates the caverns to this place may be given the chance to be judged worthy. Beware though, few are deemed worthy."

"Who would judge me?" Eragon asked. He knew there was no chance he could go back. Whatever this was, whatever the risk, he would do it.

"The souls of those who no longer walk the earth would judge." One spoke. "For here is where the Earth and the Void converge. This stone is the link between the worlds, a bridge to carry those who pass into the Void.

"If they deem you fit, we will answer one question and one question only, truthfully and fully, but if, which is more likely, they deem you unworthy, they will not suffer you to live, but neither will they take you among their own. You would be constrained to be a spirit as those others the Void did not take, never to die, but never to live either."

His body shimmered slightly before becoming more solid, taking almost a form like his in contrast to the other ephemeral beings. "Yet remains one choice more. Find not your worth and return to the world above, never to know what may have occurred and stripped of all remembrance of entering."

Eragon swallowed. There was only one choice. "I would know if I am worthy."

"Then speak your name and be judged."

He was herded to the rock and placed a hand on it. It radiated heat and magic as well as light now that he was closer. Quietly, he spoke his name to the vault and felt a pull on his mind, stronger than anything he had before felt. Pulled forward, unable to see or freely move, Eragon waited.

And waited.

But he had the strange feeling that no time had elapsed since he had spoken his name. Either that or an eternity had passed without his notice.

Something brushed his mind. And then again. As if knowing that he did not belong in the Void, departed souls pressed against him, bearing feelings of unease and occasionally hatred. Eragon sensed those were the ones who had not wished to depart the earth. He did not fight and allowed the souls to rip into his thoughts, to tear into his motives and goals. And then, suddenly, they pulled away.

And seemed to be waiting.

Eragon shivered as he felt another presence, but unlike the others, this one did not pass like the others. For a while, nothing happened, but then it spoke.

_Eragon. _It greeted. _I see you have once again dived into the deepest pit you could find._

Eragon smiled. _Brom._

_Yes, it is I. _

_Why didn't you tell me?_

Sadness came from the presence of his father. _I only meant to protect you, but we both know how that turned out. _He said bitterly. _It seemed that once again the world set out to stand my plans on their heads. _He sighed. _It takes a lot for us who are dead to speak to you who live. I already feel my time is coming to a close. Your mother does not have the power to speak with you, Eragon, but she asked me to tell you she loved you even in the small amount of time she knew you. Eragon, in life you never knew me as a father, but you were always my son. I hope someday you will forgive my choices._

_I have already done so. _Eragon said quietly.

_In that you are much like your mother. She always saw the good in everyone._

_Morzan? _Eragon asked quietly.

_Yes, that would be a good example. I'm sorry, Eragon. I cannot stay much longer. Remember that no matter what happens, you are yourself and no one, true name or not, can take it from you. Goodbye, Eragon._

_Goodbye, Father. _The presence faded, and Eragon knew that stab of pain that always accompanied thought of his mentor and father was laid to rest. From what he could see, death seemed kinder than life.

Another specter came near, but there was none of the familiarity he had had when Brom had been near. _So you are the rider who seeks to overcome Galbatorix._

_I am. _Eragon answered, the speaker's voice was deep and carried much sorrow. After a moment, Eragon spoke. _Who are you? _He asked her.

_I am__Jarnunvösk. Galbatorix was my rider while I lived._

Eragon suddenly understood the dragon's pain. He tried to imagine what it would be like if he knew the partner-of-his-heart was so twisted and evil, had tried to replace him, and was inflicting horrors on so many people, how he would feel. Eragon was unsure how to respond to the dragon. He doubted anything, even death, could entirely destroy the love of a dragon for his rider. And he was set out to kill hers.

She seemed to understand. _I know he needs to be killed. I am shamed here because of what he has become. I know that maybe, if I had given him my heart of hearts this all could have been prevented, that all the innocents would have been spared, the riders would still live. And because of this, I have come to speak with you, the one whose hand may at last smite him down._

_I can sense his power over you. I can see the torment he has put you through. Do not stop at anything to stop the reign of Galbatorix. If only I had claws and teeth I would do it myself. Promise me if you return, that you will try your best to rid the world of the filth Galbatorix is and that you will stop at nothing to restore the riders to their former prestige._

In the ancient language, that would be binding. Eragon knew that had always been his intention anyway. _I promise._

_That is all I wanted. Good luck, Eragon._

There was a longer pause and then a huge horde of souls —angry, vengeful, spiteful— convened on him. Others, keeping to the back, were full of regret and sadness. One presence brushed against him and Eragon gasped as one barely audible word was uttered.

_Why?_

Eragon fell to his knees as he recognized who that little voice belonged to. Lily. Her spirit drifted back among the crowd, hurt and confused. He recognized suddenly who these were. These were the souls of those whose lives he had ended, and those who, by his hand had fallen to lie forgotten on the battlefields. Families bereaved. Men killed in a war they did not choose to join.

Tears streamed down his face as the group tightened, surrounding him, the walls closing. Eragon called out in grief and guilt, weeping as he saw now how many had fallen to his hand. Somewhere along the way, he had lost count. He no longer remembered the faces, they had all blurred together. The enormity of his impact struck hard. Eragon could barely keep himself from despair as those voices murmured in a tremendous chorus that one terrible word.

_Why?_

Because they were in the way. Because it was necessary. What reasons were those to take the life of a human being? That life that was so precious. Great racking sobs came from Eragon as he listened to that word, over and over. He could not move from the ground.

_Leave him. _A voice commanded forcefully and the presences scattered. The voice of his master came to him and the presence brushed against him. _There was nothing else to be done, Eragon. Remember in Ellesméra when I assigned you to think on why you are fighting._

Eragon raised his head. _I fight to help those who suffer beneath Galbatorix's rule._

_And those who have died._

_Galbatorix has hurt and will hurt more people than our single war ever could if he were to remain king. _Eragon took a deep breath and calmed his mind. _Thank you master_.

He knew Oromis would have been smiling at him. _Hardly your master any longer, Eragon. When I passed, that mantle, the leader of the riders, came to rest on your shoulders. You bear it well._

_Thank you._

_Remember why you fight, Eragon, for if you fail, there is no hope, but do not despair. The king's time will come to an end. I must go; I feel the Grey Folk are calling you back. _His previous master's voice grew faint as he drifted away. _Tell Glaedr that I am happy here. Tell him one day we will be rejoined._

_I will._

With that, Eragon felt himself suddenly grow dizzy and was blinded by a green and blue light. Disoriented, he blinked several times and found himself staring at the Rock of Kuthian. Eragon looked up at the one who seemed to speak for the Grey Folk. Then he knelt.

There was a long pause in which no one made any noise. Eragon found himself breathing almost silently despite his anxiety and worry. The ephemeral being looked down upon him and then he raised his arms. "You have been deemed worthy." Eragon stood. "When you are ready, tell us and ask your question. Do not worry that we may trick you out of it for it is yours. Ask what you wish and we will return you to the surface."

"Then I may ask something about the Vault without my question being used."

"We may not answer it, but yes you may ask."

"Then… I would have thought one of the Forsworn, perhaps Morzan, would have approached me, but there was no sign of any of them."

"This we will answer." He nodded to another. "She may explain it better than I."

"Rider Eragon, you remember we told you that if you did not pass the test, you would be rejected among both the words, not quite alive, but not allowed among the dead either. You would be what has been named a spirit, for a spirit you would be, doomed to wander somewhere between the worlds for eternity, not aware, but not at peace.

"Those who have done much evil, the ones within the Vault turn away. They do not accept them among them. This happens to but a few, but the Forsworn were some of those they turned away. Galbatorix also, if he ever dies, will wander as a spirit."

Eragon felt a slight discomfort growing within him. Even if he did destroy the king, Galbatorix would still be there. He closed his eyes.

"May I have some time to think of my request?"

"Of course, but choose well. And beware that you truly wish to know what you ask. The one for whom this rock is named thought to deceive us and in her greed asked to know everything. Bound by hour word, her request was granted. Kuthian returned to the surface and became a queen, a goddess to her people and did great good for the world.

"For a time, she reveled in her newfound power and status, but as time went on, she grew depressed. For in her desire to know all, she knew all the suffering of the world and all the misery of the people who dwell on it. A year after she became omniscient, Kuthian took her life; unable to cope with what she knew. So beware what you wish to know."

Eragon stood, watching the shifting colors of the obelisk before him. The feeling that the rock had inspired still filled him and he fought to clear his mind. He needed something to defeat Galbatorix. Something to even the playing field.

Suddenly, Eragon knew.

"I wish to know the name of the Ancient Language."

He was met with the gazes of all the Grey Folk. "We bound magic to the words to keep it from being destructive. It took the lives of the majority of our kind. You will have your answer, but you will never be able to share it with anyone else. Even if they hear it, it will be forgotten a moment later. So be it." The original speaker looked directly into Eragon's face and spoke softly the name. The one name.

There was hope.

One of the Gray Folk stepped forward. "Sleep, Eragon. Sleep and be returned to the surface where you belong. For with you lies the fate of all, not only of man, but of all species. Reveal us only to those you trust with your life. Sleep."

Eragon's eyes drifted closed and blackness filled his vision. A pair of arms caught him as he fell and then he knew no more.

**Alright. This was much easier to think about and put in the plan than it was to actually write. I don't know what I think about this, so I would appreciate your opinion. By the way… if I get enough reviews, I might post tomorrow. Any thoughts on what Eragon asked for? So leave a review or a friendly hello. Until next time.**

**P.S. Read _The Herbalist? _*asks hopefully***


	31. Elva

**A.N. Okay, I promised you guys that lots of reviews earned the chapter posted the next day, and you outdid yourselves. So I finished it. This one is mostly Arya. My favorite character is in it too. Yay Angela! But here it is. Read!**

Arya knocked on the door. There was no answer, but Arya could hear the herbalist's voice coming from within. After a pause, she knocked again, but the door remained closed. Annoyed, Arya slammed open the door, feeling the lock shatter as it was forced open. Angela glanced up from a pot she was stirring and raised her eyebrows.

"Well that was rude."

Arya took a deep breath. She was not going to explode at Angela now. That _woman _drove her up the walls. "I need your help."

"Obviously." The word rolled off Angela's tongue as she turned back to the potion she was working on.

Arya bit her tongue. "So…?"

"Arya, I would be willing to listen if you'd only ask. Telling me you need help was only a statement."

"Fine." She said. "Will you help me?"

"Still rude."

Arya felt her temper about to burst and forced her hand away from her sword. Keeping herself together, for the sake of the ill kitten that was tucked in her pocket fast asleep, Arya did not attack Angela. "Will you help me_ please_?"

"Yes." Still the herbalist did not look up.

Arya waited.

And then she exploded. "Can you not be serious for even a minute?" She asked, incensed. You are an intolerable, insolent woman who always sticks your nose in where it is not wanted yet is never helpful when you are actually needed!" Arya bit her lip, embarrassed that she had let herself lose her temper. Only Angela could make her do that so easily.

Angela, far from being angry, was smiling. She took off her apron and hung it on a peg. "Do you feel better now?" She asked patronizingly. Angela chuckled at the flush that spread over Arya's cheeks. "What is it?"

Relieved that Angela was finally taking her seriously, Arya reached her hand into her cloak and retrieved a too-warm mass of soft fur. Hali squirmed weakly at being removed from the warm pouch, but Arya murmured reassurances to her and the kitten settled.

Arya met Angela's eyes. "This is Hali. She is ill, something beyond by capabilities."

"Why did you not say so at the beginning?" Arya closed her eyes and breathed deeply again. Angela's demeanor changed to something more appropriate. "Solembum." She called.

A shaggy werecat leapt down from the top of a cabinet and yawned lazily. _Yes? _His eyes fell on the kitten and he hissed. Arya almost moved to stand between them when she understood that she had misunderstood the hiss. _Who would harm a young one in this way?_

The kitten blinked slowly and Arya stroked her head with a thumb. She let out a slight whine and Arya felt growing pity for the infant. She most likely could not understand anything that was happening to her.

Arya glanced at the werecat. "She is ill, Solembum. She was… mistreated when part of the werecat's army was stopped. She seemed to be fine and then this happened."

Angela held out her hands for the werecat kitten and Arya froze, drawing the kitten close. "It took much to convince the queen to allow me to bring her to you."

She laughed. "I bet it did. I'm not going to harm her, Arya."

"Promise me."

Her eyes narrowed. "I do not like to bind myself with oaths." The herbalist said slowly and then sighed. "But in this case I will." She switched to the Ancient Language. "I promise that I will do only what is best for the werecat's health. Satisfied?"

Arya nodded and gently passed the kitten over but still keeping a wary eye on everything. Angela found a small basket and cushioned it with a wool blanket before placing the kitten in the center and setting the basket beside the fire.

She looked up at Arya. "If she does not live, you may have placed my life in danger. Once, a long while ago, I offended the people and broke the trust I had managed to gain among the werecats. The feud the king has with me is neither a misunderstanding nor a light matter. Anything is likely to be blamed entirely on Solembum and me."

"The queen briefed me on your history with the werecats and Solembum. I know not the entire story." She looked at the kitten. "But in the same way, if she lives, it may begin to repair the trust you once had."

She paused for a minute. "That is true." Then she spun. "Solembum, fetch Elva for me. Quickly." She added in exasperation as the werecat slowly stalked through a door into the next room. "Lazy beast." She muttered under her breath, and the corners of Arya's mouth witched upward.

Solembum returned, followed by a young girl, but Arya knew that the girl was, in truth, much younger even than she appeared. She was an infant with an adult's mind and a girl's body. Arya took the time to examine the child Eragon had unintentionally cursed for the first time in a while. The girl's eyes were startlingly violet and her hair raven black. In her expression were knowledge and a wariness that unnerved Arya. That girl held more power that anyone should, especially for a child. Yet she had not asked for it. While not an elf, Elva did not appear entirely human either and her ears tapered slightly. 'Like Eragon.' She realized. Elva stared back at Arya and then walked over.

Arya tried to turn her face away, but couldn't. Elva stopped directly before her. "I can see." She said with a cruel smile. "You miss that accursed rider. Yes, and I know what you fear. You fear he will die for you, and I know you doubt. If you-"

"Elva!" Angela admonished sharply. The girl grinned toothily at Arya and backed slowly up. Angela came forward. "Wrong, Elva. That is wrong. Sit there until I tell you what to do." The girl went to sit on the too big chair, swinging her feet and looking for all the world like a normal child.

Arya took a shaky breath. All her pains, fears, and doubts had been dragged to the front of her mind. Her _weaknesses. _Angela came over and looked at the elf. Then she frowned and went to find something, mumbling. She returned a few minutes later with a steaming mug.

"Here. Drink this." She took it, sipping some. Then she stared into the sweet liquid. "Just drink it, Arya, it will help you relax."

Arya obeyed, feeling her muscles unclench. "Thank you." She muttered, embarrassed.

Angela nodded. "Elva, come here." The girl jumped off the chair and walked over. Angela glared at her. "Elva, what do you have to say for yourself?"

The girl met Arya's eyes and Arya sensed the girl was not the least bit repentant. "I am sorry." She said. Then she looked to Angela.

"Alright." She sighed. "Elva, on the hearth, I know you can sense her, is an injured werecat." The girl walked over and knelt. Angela watched nervously.

Angela shook her head. "However misbehaved, Elva will never physically harm someone. I'm trying to make her into a healer. To be able to sense the pain and discomfort of a patient that cannon communicate is dead useful. Hali is the perfect example of this." Angela watched the girl. "It was easy to see what Eragon's so-called blessing did to her, but the effects of the mark Saphira gave are more subtle. Saphira gave her the ability to use magic."

Arya felt fear. That girl… She spoke quietly. "And she could become the next Galbatorix. What she did to me, I was helpless. I, an elf who had been trained to battle. And now she can use magic too?"

Angela nodded. "Which is why I took precautions. What I am about to tell you I am not entirely proud of, but I found it necessary. The first time I met her, I set about protecting myself from her powers. What I realized her potential for magic, I had her swear an oath to me that she would never attempt to harm me."

"But how would that-"

Angela shook her head. "I know her true name." Angela said quietly. "I have never spoken it, and I do not plan on it, but if someday she turns on us and there is no other way, I will not hesitate to stop her, because only I would be able."

The elf nodded. As terrible as it was for someone to be able to use your name against you, in this situation, as long as Angela was not abusing her power, Arya accepted it. In fact, some of the fear she had of the girl dissolved.

Elva raised her head and nodded. They walked over. Quickly, the girl rattled off a list of the little werecat's symptoms. Angela's mouth tightened into a thin line and Arya felt her stomach drop. Then she turned to Arya.

"Was there any opportunity for someone to have poisoned her?" Angela questioned, looking down as Hali tried weakly to stand.

"Arya paled. "How long ago?"

"A week, perhaps a bit longer than that."

"Yes. There would have been plenty of opportunity. You know what is wrong?"

Angela frowned. "I was almost positive. Now that you have told me there was the chance, I am sure." Angela walked back to a chest. "She is dying. It may already be too late, but I will do my best. I can easily give the antidote, but after a week and with her so tiny…" She pulled a small vial from the chest and held it up to the light. "Here it is. Can you get her to drink some of it? She won't need much, not with her size."

"I'll try." Arya lifted the kitten gently and dipped her finger in the vial, holding it to the kitten's nose. She turned her face after sniffing. "Would this still work mixed in with milk?"

"Shouldn't make a difference." Angela went to find some. "Cream." She said, giving it to Arya. "She could use the extra fat anyway."

The kitten lapped the milk from her fingers until she had had all she could take. Arya looked to Angela. "What else do we do?" She asked.

"Nothing. That is all. Everything else will depend on her. We just wait and hope that all will turn out well.

* * *

><p>Eragon blinked several times at the bright light that struck his eyes, almost blinding him after so long in the dark. He was lying on the cool stone only feet inside the deep cave he had been in. The grey Folk must have brought him there, he concluded. They even had the sense to leave him out of sight from the opening.<p>

A slight smile came over Eragon's face. There was finally hope. They could win.

Eragon prepared to utter the name of the Ancient Language and finally break the hold of the king over himself, but then reason struck. The king had a spell cast over his nameslaves to alert him if he ever lost control of his pawns. As good as it would be to be free of his chains, Eragon knew that at least for the time he would have to bear them.

The king not knowing would be an even greater advantage. King Galbatorix, when the eventually met again, could be given a nasty surprise. He would probably understand that Eragon had something planned, but he could not know that Eragon knew the Name. The Name could break Galbatorix's power. The king would still be tremendously powerful, still reigning over his cache of eldunari and with his fear controlled army, but now there was at least a chance that Eragon could face him on a near level playing field.

He walked to the mouth of the cave and saw that the sun was almost setting. How long had he been in the Caverns? As he realized his hunger, Eragon wondered if it was not even longer than it had seemed. He broke a piece of bread and swallowed some of his water before stepping through the entrance of the cave. His pack dragged painfully across the abused skin of his shoulders and back. Steeling himself against what he knew was coming; Eragon cast a quick spell to conceal himself and began to run.

Almost immediately, the pain became overwhelming. He knew he had at least one broken rib, and the bruises and cuts he bore gave him a jolt of pain every time his foot struck the ground. A swollen eye prevented him from seeing properly. Gritting his teeth because there was nothing left to do, Eragon concentrated on the soft noises his boots made as they impacted the frozen earth and ran toward the Varden.

**What did you think? I wasn't going to put the little piece about Eragon in, but then decided why not. Anyway, while CP might enjoy making long chapters describing the characters running from place to place, it bores me. Please tell me what you think. Thank you for reading!**

**P.S. I realize that there is a good chance this will not be complete before the last book comes out. However, as this is my fist fic (as well as I do not wish to abandon any story) I will be completing it even after the last book comes out. Readers or no readers, I will stick this out to the end.**


	32. The Name

**A.N. Over four thousand words. I meant to cover more in this chapter than I ended up covering, but I wanted to post this. So here it is. Enjoy! **

Arya was sitting in her small cabin, watching the fire crackle as it kept the room warm. Hali was cradled gently in her arms, fast asleep. She smiled s she noticed the kitten's feet twitching and a small growl come from her mouth. She was dreaming.

A sudden loud knock on the door sounded an instant before the door was slammed open. Before the door had even hit the wall, she was on her feet, sword in hand. Hali squeaked in protest at the sudden movement, but Arya ignored her, preparing to fight.

An elf barged in and, after flinching slightly at the sight of the blade, spoke. "Oh Arya, you must come quickly. Come." She repeated.

Staring at the elf, one of Eragon's twelve guards, Arya hurriedly sheathed her blade and followed. The elf was about to run when Arya caught her shoulder. "Wait, Melaine, tell me what is happening."

"Blodhgarm is injured badly. Two others are in no better shape. Come."

"Wait a second." _Alia. _The werecat poked her head through the door. She was in Eragon's cabin with his cousin. She cocked her head. Arya walked over and deposited the kitten before her. Alia nodded and gently picked up the kitten in her mouth, retreating into the cabin. Running back to her own cabin, Arya grabbed Eragon's things, his belt, his ring, and then she grabbed the eldunari. Arya turned back to the elf, shifting impatiently on her feet, looking extraordinarily anxious.

"Let's go." They began to run. "What happened? Where are they?"

Melaine shook her head. "We were fools. You advised us against us, but we ignored you. We thought we knew best. Saphira,whom we were trying to guard, attacked us." She kept running. "We managed to move them a safe distance away from her."

Arya saw a blood red shape in the sky and an emerald green one flying slightly below it. _Wyrda_, _Thorn, Vanir. Blodhgarm and two others of the elves tried to approach her. Saphira grew furious and attacked._

_We're coming. _Vanir said with a level voice, and Arya saw the pair angle steeply down. As they landed, Arya and Melaine reached the clearing. Arya gasped as her eyes fell upon the elves. The eight others were kneeling around them, speaking in the ancient language.

Her eyes fell first on Blodhgarm. Half his body was covered with red, blistering burns and he lay still, unmoving. The others were no better. One looked as though the ribs in his chest had been broken, and the last had three bloody lines stretching from her shoulder to her hip. Arya rushed to join the group.

"Are any of them...?"

Liana, a quiet elf that Arya had rarely spoken to, looked up. "They all live. We were fools to anger a dragon." She said, looking at the injured elves. "They all yet live. Saphira injured them precisely to the line of what would kill them; she did not push them over it."

Arya frowned. The dragon had deliberately injured them to the point of death? "Who is worst off?" She noticed her dragon nudge her gently with his snout and patted him absently, too involved in the task at hand.

Liana spoke again. "Naifel." She said, gesturing to the elf with the crushed chest, a tear reaching her eye as she rejoined the elves' chant. Arya remembered something she had heard. Liana was his mate. She looked at the way she was watching him and then listened to the chant. They were not even healing them, all their magic was going towards keeping them alive.

Vanir ran over, looking once over the elves, his face hardening. Arya beckoned him over and then knelt next to Naifel. They were all under a magic imposed sleep, but his chest barely moved as he took shallow, gasping breaths. Arya put a hand on his chest and cast a spell, frowning at the result. Almost all of his ribs were broken and one of his lungs was punctured.

_Vanilor. _She called to the eldunari and it responded immediately.

_I will lend my strength._

She nodded. Thorn dipped his head and crawled closer. Arya watched as some of the elves glared of watched him warily and frowned. She didn't remember Eragon ever speaking to them about Thorn. There was surely some hard feeling there. Thorn just ignored them.

Arya placed her hand on his chest once more and began to speak a complex healing spell. It sapped her power quickly and she felt Wyrda, Vanir, Thorn, and Vanilor join with her. Continuing the spell, she watched as his bones snapped back into place. It was a good thing he was already unconscious. The bone structure having been fixed, Arya quickly assessed the internal damage.

It was not good. Besides the punctured lung, he was bleeding inside. She began to recant spells and what was inside slowly tried to mend. A minute later, there reached a point where magic was doing no more. He would have to do the rest on his own. She transferred small amount of energy to his body and then looked at the other two, already sagging from exhaustion, she walked to the female elf. Blodhgarm, was worse off, but Arya cast a spell to seal the surface of the wounds and stop the blood loss.

Then she ran to Blodhgarm. Burns covered half his body and his blue fur was charred. Again joining with the others, Arya slowly began to heal him, drawing also from the belt now as their strength was taken. All the same, Arya worked to heal the elf, and after that, she moved on to the last.

None was fully healed, but all would survive. Arya leaned against her dragon's side and his thoughts reached her.

_Arya? _He asked quietly, looking at the elves. _Why would she do this?_

_I don't know. _Arya said, watching as the elves gathered their fallen companions with solemn faces and set off towards the city. _Losing Eragon hurt her much. She has only ever counted on him. From when she was a hatchling, she knew only Eragon and lived in the Spine. She trusted Brom, but he passed. And then she slowly came to trust Murtagh, but then he changed sides. It is not a wonder that she has secluded herself, but she has definitely gone to far. She went to far when she struck out at you._

Wyrda turned as Thorn and Vanir took off, leaving them there in the clearing. Arya looked at him. _And what would have you done if I had been taken?_

He blew a puff of smoke. _I would fight for you._

Arya nodded. She remembered something Saphira had once said. The dragon had said that if Galbatorix had ever captured Eragon, she worried if she would turn herself over to save him. She sighed. At least Saphira had the sense not to do that.

For the first time, Arya wondered about her dragon. Wyrda's nature was so different from Saphira's. Saphira had grown up fighting for her life. Fighting came naturally to her, but Wyrda… Even when hunting, Wyrda killed with precision, unwilling to cause even a deer pain. Would he be able to be in a battle, to injure and kill men, putting behind all thoughts of what he had done? It was a question that only time would tell, she figured.

_Arya. _A voice reached her. A voice Arya had been least expecting to hear.

She went to her bag. _Glaedr, you have awakened. _She said, remiving the eldunari from the bag. There was no longer only a dim golden spark in the center of the heart-of-hearts, but the whole gem glowed with golden light. _I am glad._

_It is time for me to rejoin this battle. It was not my rider's intent that my mourning would hinder the war. Oromis' life will not be in vain._

_It will not be. _Arya said.

_Tell me what has passed since my rider died. _He asked. _I believe I am behind in events. Why do you bear me, not Eragon? And how is Vanilor here with me? _The light flickered. _And you are a rider as well. I am behind indeed._

Arya settled against Wyrda's side as he laid down and prepared to tell the entire story. By the time she was finished, the sun was lowering in the sky.

For a while, the dragon was quiet, and then waves of anger began to pulse from the eldunari.

_Saphira! _The dragon's voice ripped through the trees, bearing layers of fury and disappointment.

Arya could feel hear her raply through the link the Glaedr retained with her mind. _Master? _Her voice was incredulous and quiet.

_Fool dragon. _He spat. _Your rider was captured and this is how you aid him? You abandon the Varden and you attack those who are fighting for him. _Arya could feel the sapphire dragon cowering in the clearing where she lay. _You should be ashamed to be Eragon's dragon. Is this what he would have done if it was you that Galbatorix had taken? I thought you had better sense than this, but I see now that I was wrong._

_I'm sorry, master. _Saphira said quietly, shame filling her tone.

_You should be. _Glaedr responded. _But I will not forgive you until you have atoned for the damage you have done and apologized to any who deserve it. You have disgraced what the riders stand for and you betrayed your own rider. _He paused. _I am done speaking with you. Do not return until you have thought and are truly repentant of your actions I am dome with you. _The dragon severed the connection. _Let us return, Arya. I wish to speak with the leader of the Varden._

_Of course. _Arya leapt to the back of her dragon, holding the eldunari in her hands and listening as Glaedr conversed with Wyrda. Arya smiled slightly at her dragon's amazement of speaking with a dragon as old as Glaedr was. He was almost stumbling over his words as he tried to speak as fast as he was. The whole time she could feel Glaedr's amusement as well as affection for the almost hatchling. It had been so long since the dragon had been around such a young one, a dragon innocent of spilling a man's blood.

They landed in the garden and Arya saw the elves over in their section, gathered silently around their injured. They could use some hope, Arya thought, and then she smiled, walking over. The group did not look up, Liana sat holding the hand of her injured mate.

"Glaedr has awakened." She said and their heads snapped to look at her, smiles taking some of the faces as they saw the eldinari in her arms, pulsing with a golden glow.

One of the elves stood and began the age-old ritual tradition and Glaedr responded. For the next half hour, the dragon spoke with the elves, before he announced again that he would speak with the leader of the Varden. They separated, leaving the elves in a much better mood than they had formerly been in.

Arya cast a spell to prevent others from seeing the eldunari and went to the castle, navigating the hallways until she found herself outside the leader's personal quarters as it was late enough for her to be near ready for bed. The two dwarves, two urgals, and two men which were the current rotation of her Nighthawks, stood guard outside her door.

She looked at them. "I wish to speak with Nasuada."

One of the men nodded. "Is Lady Nasuada expecting you?"

"No she is not, but could you relay that Arya Drottningu wishes to speak with her."

"It will be done." The man slipped through the door and then returned a minute later. "Lady Nasuada will see you." They stepped aside and opened the door, allowing her to enter.

Nasuada was sitting in a chair with her feet tucked beneath her, a book opened on her lap. When Arya entered, she slipped a feather between the pages and set the book on a table. Arya looked around her personal room and smiled slightly. It was simpler than you would expect for the living space of one with as much power as Nasuada, but was still well decorated and colorful. Her eyes fell upon a fairth of Ajihad, the day he took lead of the Varden. He stood holding a young girl, fast asleep, in his arms with her head on his shoulder.

"Please have a seat, Arya." She said, and Arya nodded, taking a seat on the other chair in the room, near Nasuada. "What has come up that you sought to speak with me at this time of the day?"

"There are several things you should know. The first is that Saphira attacked and nearly killed three elves who tried to approach her." Nasuada gasped, looking upset. Arya paused. "What is it?"

She looked at Arya. "When she attacked Wyrda, he was protecting me. I never actually believed she would injure me, no matter how angry, but I see I was wrong. That could have as easily been me."

Arya nodded. "They have been healed to the best of our ability and will all recover within a week or so, but that is not the real reason I have come to see you." Arya smiled. "Glaedr has awakened and he wishes to speak with you." Nasuada's eyes widened and Arya dropped the spell that was hiding the eldunari from sight.

"Glaedr?" She questioned quietly.

_Yes. _He responded. _You are Lady Nasuada. No leader of the Varden has ever managed near what you have in even the short time you have been leading._

"I… I am honored you think so." She said. Arya hid a smile as she saw that Nasuada was not hiding her awe and nervousness to be speaking to the ancient dragon. "You wished to speak with me." She said. "Why? I mean why me?"

_You are the reason the Varden is here and fighting. Without you, they would still be hiding away, perhaps in Surda. Eragon is gone, yes, but there is yt more hope than there has been. A year ago, there was no knowledge of any rider. Saphira was a mere hatchling, hiding in the Spine and her rider had never touched a sword in his life, he did not even know how to read, a simple farm boy. A year ago, no one would have believed we could have made it this far to overcoming the king. My rider and I were biding our time deep in Du Weldenvarden. We believed that all hope was lost. Arya had been taken by a shade and the egg was gone._

_But now, the Varden still has three dragons, I believe Saphira will rejoin you very soon, five counting Vanilor and I, and a rider. Thirteen elves are also with you. The elven army, the majority of the race, has left the forest to fight. You do not see yourself as the cause, but without you, this would never been able to occur._

Nasuada stared at the golden gem in Arya's lap, overwhelmed by what the dragon had said. Then she smiled. "Your words gladden me. Since Eragon was taken by King Galbatorix, I have despaired of our cause, but you are right."

After a while longer, Glaedr stopped the conversation. _I can sense you are tired. We may continue this another time._

"Of course." Nasuada yawned. It was much later than she was accustomed to staying up. Nasuada looked at Arya. "I will leave you to inform the Queen. From what I understand, you have not been speaking to her."

Arya's expression hardened. She had been avoiding her mother. Islanzadí, in the one time Arya had contacted her since Eragon had disappeared, had guessed the truth about her relationship with the rider and told her she had been foolish and that she should have expected it to happen for letting herself become attached to someone during a war. That, combined with Faolin's prophecy, knowing her mother was probably correct, Arya had severed the correspondence between them.

Nasuada caught her eye. "Arya, it is not wise to keep baseless feuds in the midst of a war. You should be thankful for those you have." Her eyes drifted toward the fairth of her father and Arya felt guilty suddenly. Nasuada would likely give anything to have her father back, as Arya would, but the leader, not even much more than a girl, did not have a mother she knew of or any family. She was close to few, being the Varden's leader had created a rift around her. She was right.

"Fine." Arya consented. "I will speak with her."

Nasuada nodded as Arya stood. Wishing each other good night, Arya left to her cabin and allowed Nasuada to rest. As she walked into her cabin, stoking the fire, the moon was high. The same moon Eragon saw, she thought with a faint smile. Alia was in her cabin, and without speaking, she deposited Hali on her lap and slipped through the door without a sound. Arya put the kitten in her basket and then got into her bed, pulling the blankets up to her chin to fight the winter's chill.

* * *

><p>Eragon collapsed against the trunk of a thick pine tree. It was snowing. The moon was almost full and the stars were bright. They cast plenty of light to see by even now during the dead of night. Creating a small magical light, Eragon untied the strip he had torn from the blanket he carried and looked at the long wound on his arm.<p>

It was infected.

His arm from the elbow down was inflamed and stiff, not a good sign. And he couldn't heal himself without breaking the hold of his true name by the king, but he knew that had to be a last resort only. The king was too powerful, and if he broke the hold of his name, all that much more effort would be put into finding him before he reached the Varden. Once, the first night, he had seen the black shadow of the king's dragon on the horizon, circling the direct path to the Varden.

Eragon smiled faintly. He was not that foolish as to take the direct path. He had gone north first, north and west until he crossed the Woadark River that spilled into Leona Lake.

At the moment, he was on the far side of Leona Lake. He would follow the western shore along the mountains before he would hopefully approach Belatona. There were no large towns or cities on this side of the lake besides Kuasta which lay across the mountains. He had not seen another human since he crossed the river almost a day ago.

He sighed and touched the skin around the cut, flinching at the pain. If he made it there, he could have Angela tend to him. She would likely berate him and call him a fool, but she would be able to help. Eragon poured a bit of his water over the wound and pressed a bit of an herb he had found in the woods against it that drew out infection, rewrapping it.

The lower reaches of the Spine wrapped around Leona Lake, and Eragon had ventured into them. Luckily he was able to identify some of the plants that lived there from his childhood and had managed to prevent the majority of his wounds from festering as well as continually eating a bitter herb that kept his fever down.

Looking up at the moon again, Eragon stood. He rested by day. The chances were much less of being caught by night, and besides, he did not quite wish to sleep in an unknown part of the Spine where he did not know the dangers as he had known them up in Carvahall. He knew he was safer from the king in the Spine as he feared it greatly.

Eragon opened his bag and moved what little he had with him around. His food was out. Eragon sighed. He had known it would come to this, but he had hoped it wouldn't. Seeking out a small rabbit with his mind, nibbling on the ends of some grass, he whispered a single word and felt its mind die. The taking of a life sickened him even more since he had face those humans whose lives he had taken. They kept him from sleeping and plagued his dreams. The face of Lily more than all. That innocent child who had fallen to his hand after begging him to spare her.

He gathered the rabbit and skinned it quickly, skewering it as he cooked it over a small fire he had started with magic. The scent of roasted meat did not sicken him as he thought it would, but being as hungry as he was, it brought back memories long forgotten of nights spent in the Spine, tracking deer and working to keep his family from going hungry. Seasoning the meat with salt he called up from the earth, Eragon ate it quickly before covering the fire with dirt to extinguish it, and ventuing out into the freezing night once again, toward the Varden.

He could no longer run. The fever he was fighting with his body and with the herbs sapped his energy too greatly. The only reason he was still using magic was because he stole it from the trees around him, never taking too much, but enough for him to continue on his jouney. Eragon forced his thoughts toward those he was straining to rejoin to keep moving. He wanted nothing more than to lie down and curl into a ball, allowing the cold and the pain to take him back to the Void. His father was there waiting. Garrow was there. His mother. All those he had lost, but he was not so lucky.

He had been told before not to pity the dead but the living, and had never believed it, but now he was not so sure. Not all in the Void had seemed content to be there, but none had been in pain. None were trapped in the Spine with snow swirling around them and infection destroying their body, living only because of energy stolen from trees and determination. Yes, maybe the living were to be pitied indeed.

Eragon shook his head and forced his mind from those thoughts. That was not helpful at all. Instead, he turned his mind to the Ancient Language. He thought of words the elves had not been able to find and realized with a slight shock that he knew how the language worked and knew he would be able to find those easily. He frowned as he considered the implications. He understood his name now, not only the words, but the meaning. How difficult would it be to understand others and find their names?

Simple. He thought with a shudder. He did not want _that _power. The power to find names. He knew he would never try to control others like the king, but he still did not wish for that power. Eragon turned his mind from it he would not seek out names.

A stray thought drifted into Eragon's mind. The last Ra'zaac. What he had said before Eragon had killed him. That Eragon should make a deal, would make sure the Ra'zaac's name was remembered with fear in exchange for information. Galbatorix was close, he had said. Galbatorix was close to finding… the name.

Eragon swore suddenly. Not the name he realized, but the _Name. _Galbatorix was seeking out the name of the Ancient Language. The idea of the king with that much power was horrifying. For the first time, he wished he had made the deal with the Ra'zaac, if only to know how far Galbatorix was to discovering it. How close was close? Was he on the right track?

Eragon trudged on, picking up his pace without noticing. The Varden and the elves would have to strike as soon as possible after winter passed and the snow melted. Galbatorix could not know the name. No matter the cost, he had to be stopped.

**Alright you guys. There it is. Review and tell me what you think.**

**P.S. Lots of reviews and I will post tomorrow again. You did it last time, you can do it again. And the next chapter will have a bit of Murtagh point of view… So click the button. One word. A sentence. Just review and the next chapter will be tomorrow.**


	33. Losing Hope

**A.N. Okay. So I'm sick, but I still managed to turn out this chapter for you guys because I **_**did **_**promise I would. A lot happens in here and I'm not sure about it. Please read it and tell me what you think.**

Murtagh sighed as he looked down at the note in his hand. The king was asking him to join him. He knew better than to disobey and quickly dressed in a warm ruby colored robe that reminded him of Thorn and walked through the hallways. A female servant, retrieving his dirty clothing, watched him pass with a look bordering on pity that Murtagh was temped to wipe off her face. He hated that look. Self-consciously, he touched his cheek. The king had given him a black eye that stood out against his skin, still pale from blood loss.

All the same, he would not regret allowing his brother to escape. He had seen that Eragon had more in mind than simply running away. There had been that look of desperation with a hope that had been absent for days. A hope he did not understand.

Eragon was a slave and he had all but given in. With a slight smile, Murtagh wondered if he had been able to give Eragon that hope when he had spoken to him in the library. He couldn't help but smile at the irony. He, Murtagh, son of Morzan, had been able to give Eragon, always the optimist, hope when he had failed to find it for himself.

Murtagh found his mind cast toward his brother again. The morning Eragon had fled, the king had gone searching for him. The king had ranted about him. He had searched the city and for fifty miles in all directions. The boy, injured as he was should not have been able to move fast, yet he had somehow avoided the king as he scoured the earth with his mind. Somehow, his brother seemed to have managed to disappear off the face of the earth.

Silently he commended his brother. He had no idea where he had hidden or how, but the fact that he had avoided the king was impressive. Murtagh arrived outside the door of where the king had wished him to be and knocked, his stomach turning with repulsion. This was where the king kept his sick experiments.

The door swung open and Murtagh was greeted by a smile and swept into the room. "Have you remembered anything more about Eragon?" he question.

"No, master. I told you everything I know."

"Yes, yes. I know. That is not why I brought you here." He turned."Come along now." He said, walking down the rows, looking at some of the humans trapped in the small cages. At first, Murtagh had made it a point to visit and talk with them, but he had soon realized that the king would punish both him and the unfortunate captives for speaking.

Galbatorix paused in front of a cage and then walked over to it, humming quietly to himself. He stared at the unmoving figure in the cage and the shook his head. "Dead." He muttered in disgust. "Why must these always die?" he shook his head and lit a small torch on the cage with flame, signaling a servant to come and remove the body. Task completed, he continued humming and began walking down the rows again.

Two more bodies had been marked for removal, one only a child, before they reached the end of the rows. Galbatorix looked at Murtagh who had followed silently the whole way. "Master?" Murtagh asked quietly.

"Oh, don't worry, we have work to do yet. I will require your help."

"Yes, Master." Murtagh responded, not looking the king in his eyes. He hated it when he had to help create the abominations the king was so fond of. And the king used him oftern, well aware that Murtagh tried his best, trying to keep the miserable things alive.

"Follow me." He led him into a connected room with a cage in the middle. Inside, a young woman, perhaps seventeen sat the corner, knees pulled up against her chest. Her eyes were full of terror as she looked up to see that the king and his rider had entered into the room.

Murtagh felt sorry for her, but there was nothing he could do. Unwilling to meet her eyes, he turned to the king. Hesitating, Murtagh spoke. "And what will be her fate?" he asked quietly.

The king grinned. "As Eragon decided our company was undesirable, I was thinking that I create something for a little payback."

"How, master?"

Galbatorix laughed. "I feel as if I've been missing Durza lately. What do you think?"

Murtagh paled and looked at the girl again. "A shade?" He asked with a sick voice.

"Yes. I feel it is worth the risk." Murtagh had hoped the king would not consider it. From what he had understood from a servant, Durza had destroyed an entire wing of the castle before the king had managed to force him to submit. And shades were much more likely to rebel or change their true name, the many spirits within them constantly fighting for dominance.

"Why her?"

Galbatorix smiled. "Your brother has an aversion to killing women. I discovered it in his mind and was quite amused. He will do it if necessary, of course, but he would go to great lengths to avoid it. It would be amusing to see his reaction to a female shade. Don't you think?"

Murtagh stumbled over his tongue. He was under oath not to lie. "No, master." He said.

The king glared at him for a minute and then turned back to the girl. "No matter. It isn't important what you think anyway. He walked to the cage and grinned at the girl. She stared at the ground, avoiding his gaze. Then he looked to Murtagh.

"I am going to summon the spirits and force them to possess her. When her eyes turn red, you will immediately attempt to subdue her. I doubt you could, but I will aid you. Understood?"

"Yes, master." Murtagh responded quietly.

"Very well then." Galbatorix cast a spell, forcing the girl to make eye contact with him and then began to chant in the ancient language, After a few minutes, glowing lights began to fill the room. Still weaving his web of magic, Galbatorix pushed the spirits into the girl's body. Murtagh watched with horrified fascination as the girl began to thrash, her body absorbing the spirits.

Suddenly, she went still and her eyes turned to blood. She leapt to her feet with inhuman speed, her hair slowly changing color and her skin changing.

Murtagh immediately attacked her mind, but she repelled his attempts, retaliating with a sword like probe that cut through all his defenses. Murtagh cried out and tried in vain to rebuild his shields. For once he was relieved when the king stepped forward. Calling on his eldunari, the king bound the shade with one word and watched as she struggled against the bond, hissing at them. Murtagh watched as the king fought to break into her mind.

An hour passed with neither of them moving, locked in a stare down. Then the shade began to tremble violently, screaming and Murtagh knew Galbatorix had broken her shields. After a while longer, the king spoke and called the shade to submission through her name. Bending her to his will, he opened the cage, assigning rules and forcing her to swear oaths, laughing as the shade growled at him the entire time.

Murtagh was surprised by her appearance. Her eyes were dark blood red and her lips crimson as if stained. Crimson hair fell to her waist in ringlets and her skin was milky. In a eerie way, she was beautiful.

"What is your name?" Galbatorix asked her.

"We are Líril." She said, hate pouring toward the man who was her captor.

He only smiled, unfazed by her ire. "And I am your master."

Murtagh could not tear his eyes from the shade. All his instincts told him to raise his sword and plunge it through her chest, into the heart, but an oath not to harm allies held him back. The two influences fought for control until Murtagh could stand it no longer. Bending over, he emptied his stomach on the stone floor.

The king looked at him with open disgust. "Murtagh, take your filthy self from this room this instant."

Murtagh stumbled towards the door under the red eyed shade. "Yes, master." He spoke before hurriedly leaving the room.

A shade. Galbatorix had created a shade.

* * *

><p>Arya stretched and stood, walking to the basket on her hearth and stroking the kitten. Hali stirred and then slowly got to her feet, bright blue eyes fixed on the elf before her. Not looking away, she growled playfully and pounced at Arya. Laughing, she gathered the kitten. It seemed the kitten would be fine.<p>

She put on a cloak and placed the kitten in an inside pocket by her chest to keep her warm. As Arya stepped through the doors of her cabin, the bright morning sun, reflected off the fresh layer of snow that had fallen during the night, dazzled her eyes. Vanir nodded to her in greeting and Thorn raised his head to watch her.

Arya greeted them in return and walked over to her still sleeping dragon and walked around to his head. _Wyrda. _She called to wake him up.

_Go away. _He rumbled, tucking his head beneath a wing and shielding his mind from her as he tried to return to sleep.

As much as Arya wanted to be annoyed at her lazy dragon, she couldn't help an amused smile from lifting the corners of her mouth. Arya gently kicked at his front leg and smiled more as he growled at her. "Wyrda, it's well past dawn."

The dragon yawned and looked directly into her eyes. _Do you enjoy getting up at this unholy hour?_

She chucked at him. _It's well past the time everyone else has gotten up. You don't need to sleep 'til noon you know. Now get up, I need to go and speak with the werecats._

_You woke me up to carry you five miles?_

_Just get up. _She said, her amusement wearing off as the young dragon persisted in his complaining. Arya leapt to the hollow behind his neck and patted the side of his neck to let him know she was ready. Wyrda crouched, his muscles bunching, and then he launched upwards into the air, spreading his wings and flapping to gain altitude before he began to fly towards the werecat encampment.

Not long after, he landed in a small clearing beside the camp and settled to the ground, closing his eyes. Arya shook her head at him and leapt down, walking over to the werecats. A calico colored werecat stopped before her and sat on her haunches, looking up at the elf that had invaded their camp.

Arya waited for her to speak, but the werecat only watched her. "I wish to see your queen." She said quietly and waited for a response.

The cat turned and her tai flicked back and forth as she walked away. Arya watched after, confused until the werecat turned and looked back at her. Understanding, she followed her to an opening in the trees and smiled as she saw the king and queen walk over together. She nodded deferentially.

The queen stepped forward in her human form. "Hali?" She questioned.

Arya reached into her pocket and retrieved the squirming werecat. "If it had been any later, I doubt she could have been saved. She was poisoned back when she had been captured."

The king was watching her with a calculating expression. Alia had warned her that the queen had made the decision to name her a werecat-friend independently of the king's opinion.

Arya held out the werecat for them and the queen took her gently, examining the kitten closely. "She is entirely healthy?"

"I am not positive, but I believe so."

"We thank you."

"I-"

Thorn's voice broke into her mind. _Saphira is here._

Arya looked up at the werecats who were watching her closely. "A apologize, but Saphira has returned to the Varden and I must go."

The king frowned, but his mate nodded. "Go."

Arya ran to her dragon who was already alert and ready and leapt to his back, barely settled by the time he took off. Wyrda landed in a corner of the garden and Arya's eyes fell upon the sapphire dragon. She looked uncomfortable to Arya. Her muscles were tense and her head snapped around quickly, eying everyone who came near. She looked like a cornered animal.

Arya slid down Wyrda's side and her dragon walked slowly over to Saphira. Saphira stared at him as he stopped twenty feet away and looked at her with sad eyes.

_Wyrda. _Arya called. _Be careful._

_Yes, Arya. _He responded and waited for Saphira to speak. Arya's hand rested on the hilt of her sword and she noticed that Thorn had slowly edged himself closer to where he was standing next to the younger green dragon protectively.

Saphira looked at the green dragon and then spoke. _I should not have attacked you, Wyrda. _Saphira said reluctantly, an irritated growl rumbling from her sighed. That was as close to apologizing as she supposed the proud dragon was likely to get.

Wyrda ducked his head and looked toward the elves, growling softly. The nine elves who were uninjured stood in a defensive circle around their companions. The hard expressions on their faces told that they were not ready to forgive even if they did apologize. Arya stepped forward, walking to her dragon and looked at Saphira.

The blue-scaled dragon turned to watch her, a glare present in her eyes. _Arya. _She acknowledged coldly. Arya kept a neutral expression, but the dragon only growled. _I have nothing to apologize to you for. _She hissed. _You betrayed my rider._

Arya took a step back even as her dragon stood before her as a shield. She wished things were as they once were. In the past, Saphira had treated Arya with the same affection that she had treated Eragon. Now, Arya did not trust the dragon enough to be alone with her.

_Glaedr._ She said, calling to the eldunari.

His mind connected with hers. _Yes?_

Arya showed him the scene of what was happening and a mental growl rippled across Glaedr's mind. _I thought she would have the good sense to at least see she was wrong. _He said. _I did not expect her back so soon. In fact, I hardly expected her to come back at all without Eragon._

_Saphira. _He spoke.

Her head snapped up. _Yes, master?_

_Why have you returned here if you have not come to repent?_

Saphira growled, her tail taking out a bush with red berries as it swept through the area. _I wish to fight for Eragon. _She answered. _I will not apologize to those who don't deserve it. Wyrda did not deserve my anger and I apologized. What do you want, master?_

Arya was shocked. The dragon sounded almost openly hostile to Glaedr. Glaedr seemed to realize this too and Arya felt the energy coming from the eldunari spike. _You say you wish to fight for your rider and yet you fight those who stand behind him?_

The golden dragon sounded furious. _Saphira. _He spoke in a voice full of cold anger. _You would do best return to the forest. You do not belong here._

He sapphire dragon looked as if she was ready to attack someone, but then she only took to the air and disappeared toward the forest. A sigh of relief passed her lips and Arya found herself glad the dragon had left, but at the same time, the break between herself and Eragon's dragon distressed her.

Wyrda was looking at her with concern. His warm snout brought her back from her contemplations and she tried to smile at him.

_Would you like to go flying? _Wyrda asked quietly to his rider. _Thorn taught me a new maneuver and I haven't been able to show you yet._

A true smile graced Arya's face. _Of course, Wyrda._ She climbed onto her dragon once more and he took to the skies, drifting lazily on the wind currents.

* * *

><p>Eragon stumbled to the shore of Leona Lake and collapsed weakly to his knees, refilling the single canteen he still carried with him. He looked up at the sky. The sun had risen a few hours ago, but he knew he couldn't rest. Not today. He looked at his badly swollen left arm with concern. It was getting worse. He knew he was running a dangerous fever and his time was limited.<p>

As he washed his face in the huge lake, trying futilely to cool himself down, Eragon cursed at himself for not using the Ancient Language to free himself from the king's oaths. He had waited too long, and now he lacked the ability to heal himself with magic even if he did throw off the king's power. He lacked the power to lift a grain of sand with magic.

Forcing himself to his feet, Eragon continued moving. His only hope was to reach the Varden. Perhaps they could save him. He laughed at the bitter irony of it all. He managed to flee from the king only to make it so close to the Varden. Eragon set his teeth in determination. He would not die out here, all alone, the secret that could defeat the king lost. Concentrating only on placing one foot in front of the other, Eragon trudged on.

A deer started and ran into the bushes as he stumbled across her path. Almost without noticing the animal, he continued on. Eragon looked back at the lake in the distance and then at the canteen in his hand. There was nowhere to get water any longer. If he did not reach the Varden soon…

Pain besieged Eragon at every step. His many wounds throbbed and a terrible headache had begun, an aching pain that increased by the second. He wouldn't last much longer.

A sudden shadow covered him Eragon breathed in relief as his eyes were given a break from the blinding glare off the snow that was aggravating his headache so badly. When the shadow passed a moment later, Eragon sighed. Luck was not his.

He stumbled back in shock as a large shape landed directly in front of him, blinking as he tried to focus.

"Eragon?" A voice asked with disbelief and he looked up to see Arya before him, her face a mask of concern and relief. He stared at her blankly before his knees gave way. The last thing he knew were her arms stopping him before he reached the ground. Then sweet unconsciousness, relief from the pain, took him and he submitted gladly to its embrace.

**Alright. I don't know if I like this chapter or not. What do you think? Please tell me your thoughts.**


	34. Reunion

**A.N. Here is a warning that this chapter is the true definition of a filler: long and with practically no advancement of the plot. But it needed to be written. So here is Chapter 34, reunion. I hope you like it!**

Arya leapt back onto Wryda's back and cradled Eragon's body in her arms, looking down at the battered and ragged rider. Eragon's breathing came shallow and erratically, his chest barely rising as he took in air. Worriedly, Arya funneled a bit of her energy and Wyrda's into the rider.

She brushed the hair from his face, trying to think of any explanation for Eragon ending up almost dead and looking like a corpse twenty miles from Belatona and the Varden. Nothing came to mind.

As she cut the flow of energy from her body, Eragon's eyes opened slightly and fixed on her face. "Arya?" He asked weakly.

She nodded. "Yes, Eragon. It's me." Seeing him in his bloodstained and ripped clothes, Arya could not help a tear from falling from her eye onto his neck, creating a path through the dust and dirt of his journey. Arya knew he was fevered. There was no way she could miss it. Even though she wore thick clothing to protect against the chill of riding and he was wrapped in a thick cloak, she could feel his body heat.

"Saphira." He asked weakly, a desperate longing in his voice to see the one he shared everything with. "Where is Saphira?"

Arya shook her head. "Try and relax, Eragon. Saphira is not here right now, but she is fine, in much better condition than you are."

He fell silent and Arya was growing worried as she immediately carried Eragon into his cabin and laid him on his bed, starting a fire. "Lay still, Eragon." She instructed as he moved. His eyes were closed. Arya looked at his arm, swollen and festering and decided that was the worst. She took it tenderly in her hands. "Waise hael." She whispered, sending her magic toward the wound.

Eragon flinched. The magic simply avoided the wound. Arya frowned and tried again with the same result.

"Won't work." Eragon said quietly. "The king… Get Angela."

Arya nodded. _Angela! _She called to the herbalist. Upon her response, Arya breathed a sigh of relief. _Eragon returned. I have him in his cabin, but he is not in a good way._

_I'm coming. _Angela said, cutting the connection.

Arya sat on the edge of his bed and took his hand in hers, absently wiping off the dirt as she looked into his face. A dark bruise stood out high upon his cheek bone and a cut divided his eyebrow. His cheeks were sunken and his lips chapped and bleeding. The rest of his body was even worse.

The door burst open and Angela rushed in. She took one look at Eragon and then began to clean his wounds. Angela looked up at the elf who was watching her without moving. "Are you entirely useless? Just sat there and watched him? Would've thought you'd have known some spells to heal him with."

Arya fought down her anger. "You think I wouldn't have healed him if I could? I tried to heal this magically, but it doesn't work."

"Quiet, Arya, let me work." Arya tried to ignore the herbalist's continued jibing as she examined Eragon's wounds. She muttered to herself as she prepared a salve. "Fever too high, starved, bad infections, blood loss…" She looked back over at him. Eragon was squirming, trying to get his weight off his abused back as Arya tried to keep him still. Angela looked at Arya. "Put him to sleep. Can you do that with magic or will I need to do it?"

"I'm not sure." She forced Eragon to look at her; his eyes were clouded and far-off. "I'm going to put you to sleep, okay?" She placed a cool palm on his forehead.

"No. Wait." They both looked at him. "How bad am I? If I'm dying, I'll end a spell and you can magically heal me."

Arya stared at him in confusion. "Why don't you do than now? You're not dying, but that is no reason for us not to be able to heal you."

Eragon's breathing was becoming uneven. "King… Advantage…"

Arya looked at Angela in confusion and she shook her head. "Put him to sleep, Arya. And give him whatever energy you can spare. He seems to have none of his own left." She nodded, obeying immediately. Angela looked at the elf in the room, clinging to Eragon's hand.

"Arya, Eragon is in no immediate danger of death. Go and tell Nasuada and whoever else needs to know immediately."

Arya shook her head. "I won't leave him." She looked down at her rider's pale face and gently began to clean the grime from his skin. She looked defiantly at the herbalist.

"Fine." Angela's face went still for a moment. "I sent Alia to fetch them."

Angela slowly worked on Eragon's wounds. Her expression as she drained and treated the wound on his arm was worried and she glanced up at Arya. "This is one of the worse cases of blood poisoning I've seen." Arya only tightened her grip on his hand as Angela continued. "His knee… I have no idea how far he traveled on that, but it's fractured. If it could be healed with magic I wouldn't be worried, but he'll just have to manage."

The door burst open and Nasuada entered. Upon seeing Eragon, she closed her eyes, leaning against the wall to relax herself. After a few moments, Nasuada came over and a small smile graced her face. "I can't believe this." She said quietly. "How…?"

Arya shook her head. "He was delirious when I found him. We do not know how and you will not be asking him the first moment he wakes. I will not have it."

"Arya-"

"I don't care." She interrupted, glaring at the Varden's leader. "Do you not see him? Galbatorix _tortured _him. You will not force him into saying anything until he is ready."

A tear fell from the normally serene elf and Nasuada was reminded that the elf knew firsthand what Eragon might have gone through. She nodded slightly. "I will not press him, but if a week passes, the Varden needs to know what happened and I will have him tell me."

Arya nodded. The door opened again and Roran entered with Alia. They both were silent and simply watched as Angela attempted to heal the rider. After five minutes, Angela turned, irritated.

"Now that you all have assured yourselves that he is alive, I request that you leave or I will personally force you from this room. You are in the way and useless here."

No one but Arya wished to brave Angela's threat and departed. Just as Arya opened her mouth to defend herself, Angela rolled her eyes. "Did you really think I expected that to get rid of you?" Humming, she continued to work on the rider's many injuries.

Eragon turned, feeling the pressure of cloths on his arm and opened his eyes to find himself in his own cabin, a fire burning, and safe. As he sat, a hand reached to help him and he looked over to see Arya's worried face. "Sit still a moment." Arya felt his forehead and then relaxed. "Your fever is letting off." She helped him to sit and then arranged pillows behind him so that he could sit back.

Eragon was playing with the corner of one of the cloths wrapped around his arm. "How long?"

Arya looked at him. "It's been two days since Wyrda and I came across you." She explained and Eragon nodded. She handed him water as during his fever he had been difficult to get to drink. Eragon took one swallow and then pushed it away. "We… your wounds couldn't be healed with magic. Angela did her best."

He simply nodded. "I knew you wouldn't be able to as well as I knew I would have died if I didn't reach the Varden." Arya nodded and fell silent, but Eragon could tell she wanted to question him. He was glad she restrained herself though as he was not willing to speak of what had transpired. "For the reason you can't heal me, the king did it to me."

Arya took his hand gently. "Angela told me to call her when you awoke."

"If you must."

A few minutes later, the herbalist came in and checked his temperature and asked him a few mundane questions about how he felt before smiling. "You are recovering well. Tomorrow you'll be on you feet, though I advise you take it easy." She checked his knee to find it still swollen. "Your knee was fractured. How far did you travel on it in that condition."

Eragon glanced up as Nasuada slipped through the door. "From Uru'baen.' He admitted quietly, looking away. "Some running, some walking."

She nodded and then left him alone. As Nasuada walked over, Arya felt his grip on her hand tighten to where it almost hurt, but she did not comment. Eragon had a look of dread on his face and refused to look at the Varden's leader.

After exchanging a look with the elf holding his hand, Nasuada nodded slightly. "Eragon, I'm not going to ask you to explain anything yet. Angela left my rooms in a hurry saying you woke up and I came to see you. You have no idea how glad I am to have you back with us." At Eragon's flinch, her voice grew quieter. "Not only because you are a rider, Eragon. In my position and without family, there are few who actually know me and whom I could consider friends. You are one of those few."

He looked up, coming out of the shell he was hiding in and focused on each of the people in the room. "Where is Saphira?" He asked quietly. "Arya, you didn't answer me earlier and I need to know."

Nasuada glanced at Arya. "She is not with us right now, but she is perfectly healthy."

Eragon could easily tell that she was hiding something, but he was too exhausted to pursue the matter at the present. The fact that she was well would have to keep him until he could see her.

Nasuada noticed that Eragon didn't look as if her were about to speak to her again and dismissed herself, wishing him a speedy recovery. As soon as she was gone, Eragon relaxed. Upon noticing his eyes drifting closed, Arya helped him to lie back.

"You are still weak from you fever and can use all the rest you can get, and it is nearly dark. Sleep well." Arya stayed beside his bed, waiting until he was fast asleep and then left, placing a soft kiss upon his brow.

As soon as she woke, Arya went in to Eragon's cabin only to find it abandoned. Worried, she looked around the area.

Arya found Eragon sitting behind his cabin and approached quietly, sitting five feet from him, waiting. The cool wind caused her to shiver slightly, but she did not move. An hour came and went before Eragon opened his eyes and looked at her.

He raised his eyebrows and she picked up a stick from the ground, nervously rolling it in her hands as she watched the rider. "I came to see if you were alright." She said softly, trying to meet his eyes.

"No." Eragon said brusquely, closing his eyes to ignore her stare.

Arya came closer and put her hand on his shoulder. "Do you want to talk?" She asked quietly.

"No, Arya."

She sat back on her feet where she was kneeling. Her voice was low and soft when she spoke again. "I know how you are feeling, Eragon." She said quietly. "If-"

Eragon opened his eyes, his expression annoyed. "You do not understand."

Anger flashed in the elf's eyes and she leaned forward, her mind crashing into his, attempting to overwhelm his defenses, but there were none up. Foreign memories flashed across his mind.

_Durza, holding a chain as he brought it down upon her naked flesh again and again, leaving trails of warm blood dripping to the floor as she refused to cry out._

_Strapped to a cool steel table, eyes shut in determination to resist as she waited. Then sudden blinding pain as the glowing irons burnt into her body, leaving the scent of burnt flesh behind in the air.A brief pause as they were reheated and then the same, again and again until she lost consciousness._

_Knives, tasting her blood as they carved into her flesh. _

Arya pulled away, breathing deeply to calm herself, but looking deep into the rider's eyes. "I do not understand?" She questioned.

Eragon met her glare, his expression haunted and pain dominant in his figure. "No." he whispered. "You have no idea." Leaping to his feet, he ran into his cabin and left Arya stunned on the ground.

She sat there, staring at the place he had occupied only a minute before and lost herself in thought. The sight of complete agony in his eyes as he fled her told her she did not know what was plaguing him so.

Guilt seized her and she felt a fury rising against herself the longer she thought. Eragon had returned, his body broken and his spirit even more so and she had assaulted him with her own memories, probably drawing up similar in his mind, and yet he said she didn't know. She stood after ten minutes without moving a muscle as she wlked toward the door of his cabin, ashamed and upset.

A quiet weeping came from behind the door and tore at her heart. She knocked quietly before opening the door and slipping inside. Eragon was sitting in his cot, holding a small fairth in his hands as tears ran unchecked down his face.

"I'm sorry." Arya said, sitting beside him and waiting for a reaction, any reaction, but she did not receive any and sighed. "I shouldn't have done that. When you said… I'm sorry."

He nodded slightly.

Arya waited a minute. "Can I see?" She asked quietly, gesturing at the firth he had in his hand.

He looked down at the image and then passed it to her wordlessly. Arya examined it and her eyes widened at the clarity and detail of the image. A young girl knelt in the picture, gazing up through the image with wide frightened eyes as he pled with the person watching. Her entire body was rigid in fear while the king stood in the background, laughing.

Unsure of what it was that upset him as badly as he was, Arya placed her hand lightly on his knee in an attempt to comfort him.

Eragon glanced at her and then picked up a blank slab and closed his eyes, whispering several words in the Ancient Language. Colors blossomed across the slab and he thrust it at her without looking.

Arya stared at it. The king wore a triumphant smirk as he looked at Eragon, holding a bloody sword and standing over the body of a decapitated girl lying in a pool of glistening blood, the eyes on her detached head staring accusingly at him.

Her gut clenched as she tried to make sense of the fairth. "Eragon?" she asked, confused.

Eragon took the fairth and stared at it before shattering it in his hands, the shards slicing his palms. He stared at the blood running down his hands without caring. "My name, Arya. He found my name. He… he forced me to kill her. Lily. She pled with me, begged me to spare her life, but the king kept calling my name, telling me to kill her. I… I couldn't resist him and-" he choked on his words, unable to continue, and Arya knew that the innocent child's death at his hand was more painful to him than any physical torture the king could dream up.

Arya watched his cry helplessly for a minute before she wrapped her arm around him and drew him against her. She rubbed his back comfortingly as Eragon tried to compose himself. "If… if he knew your name and used it then there is nothing you could have done to save her, Eragon. Her death was the king's fault, not yours."

It was a few minutes before he answered. "It is my, fault, Arya. He should never have been able to find my true name. He couldn't break me and he realized that. Then he brought me out and showed me an image of Saphira. I didn't believe him at first, but then he had her voice, it spoke, and then he hurt her and I felt it. He… he made me believe it was her and I submitted to save her, but it was all a trick."

She didn't say anything more, simple holding him until he sat up, pulling away from her arms. Eragon stood and walked to the door. Arya followed silently as he looked back to see if she was following. He walked into the garden and then stopped, his eyes falling on Thorn and Wyrda, deep in a conversation. "Where is Saphira?" He asked in a level voice.

Arya took Eragon's hand, unwilling to be separated and led him over to the wall. Eragon looked into her eyes and Arya tried her hardest to meet his gaze.

"Arya. Tell me what is going on. No one will tell me where Saphira is. If you don't tell me…" His voice broke.

She squeezed his hand and didn't break his gaze. "Eragon, not four days after you were taken, Saphira abandoned the Varden. I tried to stop it from happening, but… but she accused me of never loving you and broke her friendship with me."

Eragon had paled. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything." Arya said quietly. "I know it's hard, Eragon, but that is not all. She and I were on a mission when she left. When she arrived back here, she threatened Nasuada. When Wyrda silently protected Nasuada, Saphira struck him, breaking four ribs. He asked me more than once what he did to make Saphira hate him."

"No." Eragon had released her hand and was leaning against the wall.

Arya forced Eragon to look at her. "The other day, Blodhgarm and two other elves went to try and see if they could talk to her and convince her to rejoin us." Eragon was staring at her, misery in his eyes. She could see he had been hoping to arrive to his dragon's comfort and her arms and, while she was there for him, the piece of him absent so long as his dragon was gone. "She attacked them and left them only inches from death."

Eragon sank down to the ground and she knelt beside him. He looked so forlorn, so lost, Arya wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Eragon. You need to talk to her."

He leapt to his feet, hissing as he put pressure on his weakened knee. "I need to see the elves." He waited for her to stand. "How long ago. Are they alright?"

"Naifel was unconscious for two days. He only woke late yesterday, after your return. They'll all recover fully, but he will likely be incapacitated for another week at the least." She took his hand. "Come, Eragon."

Eragon walked among the tents of the elves. They all looked up to watch him. Eragon looked at the tent on the end and Arya nodded. He entered with her a step behind. The silver haired elf who seldom spoke was lying on his cot, his face twisted in an expression of pain. Eragon went and sat on a chair beside the cot. He looked up at Liana, Niafel's mate and saw her worry for the elf.

Anger rose in his chest. It was the first time he had ever been truly and fully angry with his dragon. To see an elf reduced so was terrible.

Eragon knew Niafel was watching him. "I am sorry." Eragon said, emotion tearing apart his chest again. "Whatever I can do to make this up to you…"

Niafel coughed. "Just win this war. You were not here. It wasn't your fault." He managed to say between his coughs.

Eragon stood. "I need to see Saphira." His expression had hardened into fierce resolve. "Arya…" he looked to her.

"I'll come with you." She said, but he could see her worry.

"Saphira will not harm you or I will personally resolve this." Arya nodded and led him through the city and into the forest. She felt herself growing tenser as they neared the clearing that she knew Saphira had taken for her own. Arya could feel the dragon close. Eragon took a deep breath, and taking Arya's arm, he stepped into the clearing.

The large blue dragon spun, fangs bared as she lunged toward the intruders.

**Saphira and Eragon finally meet! So... what do you all think of this one? Leave a review and let me know.**


	35. Setting Things Straight

**A.N. Read.**

Saphira froze with her head five feet from them and a deep growl rippling through her throat as she stared at Eragon. After a moment, she attacked Arya with her mind and held her in an iron grip that made Arya gasp with pain, hardly able to keep the crazed dragon from invading the safety of her own mind.

_Do you seek to trick me into returning to the Varden with childish tricks? You are a fool, Little Elf._

Arya gaped at her. Did Saphira really believe that Arya would try and trick her with a fake image? Even if it were possible, she would never do that. Eragon moved from where he stood, stunned, and slipped between Arya and his snarling dragon. Saphira continued to glare at Arya.

_Desist._

Arya stared helplessly. Saphira's head swept suddenly across the ground and caught Eragon in the chest, sending him flying into a tree. His body fell to the ground.

"What have you done?" Arya demanded of the dragon. Saphira had frozen and was staring at Eragon's crumpled form with wide eyes. Arya knew that the dragon would have shared his pain and there was no doubt left that it was not her rider.

Arya rushed to Eragon's side and knelt, finding him unconscious, but alive. She woke him with a spell and watched as Eragon began to cough. Tearing, dry coughs that left him wincing at every movement, yet unable to stop. Arya lifted Eragon, positioning him so that he was sitting, cradled against her in a position to help him to breathe. A minute passed and he managed to stop coughing. His eyes slowly closed.

"Are you alright, Eragon?" She asked quietly.

"I-" he began to cough again. _I'm alright, I think. _He said, pain filling his voice. _My wards… I made them stronger to protect me from injuries that cannot be healed. But I didn't think them through enough. The tree… My wards didn't protect me._

Arya shot a glare at the sapphire scaled dragon who was coming closer and she backed up.

_I was hit where my ribs were broken. I think it also might have reopened the wounds on my back and arm, but I can't be sure. Otherwise just bruises. _He paused. _What is she doing?_ He asked weakly, differing layers of pain in his voice. Physical and emotional pain both.

"She is just watching us. She seems to almost be in shock, but she won't come closer, I think."

_I… I can't reach her. Call her, please?_

Arya hesitated, looking up at the dragon. A low, almost inaudible, whine was coming from her throat.

_Please, Arya._

"Alright." Arya met the dragon's eyes, swirling with emotions, and beckoned her over with a hand. Saphira slowly crept over in a crouch, belly scraping the ground. Cautiously, she brought her head close and then gently, as if she were touching a newborn babe, she nuzzled his side.

His hand went to stroke her jawbone and Saphira trembled.

Arya, through her contact with Eragon's mind could feel a desperate longing and understood. "Saphira, stop shielding from him."

The dragon spared her the barest of glances, but Arya felt the barriers lower hesitantly. Arya was budged from his mind as they joined.

_Eragon. _She began with a shamed and regretful voice.

_No, Saphira, not now. _Eragon let his mind mix with that of his partners, and they reveled in the simple joy of being reunited with one another again. Each hid their memories of their time apart, but at the moment, neither cared.

After a few minutes, Eragon frowned. _Let me see, Saphira. I know what you have done, but I want to know why._

She hesitated, pulling back, and then submitted to his request, allowing her memories to be seen. Eragon felt her heartbreak and hopelessness as he was carried away toward Uru'baen and her withdrawal from everyone. True to her promise of watching over Saphira, Arya stayed close and tried to pull her out of her shell, but to no avail.

Then they were sent on the mission, and the only reason Saphira agreed is that she wanted to taste the blood of her enemies on her tongue and get revenge. In the victory, he saw Arya confront Saphira and her pride had taken a blow too much for the dragon to ignore. Her anger at everyone, especially the meddling elf, caused her to break the friendship. Eragon knew she had seen the tear in the elf's eye before she had taken off.

The flight was simple, but Eragon froze when he saw Nasuada walk up. She asked after Arya and the werecat, and unprovoked, Saphira prepared to strike at the Varden's leader for her rider's peril, but the little dragon had come between them to protect her and Saphira had lashed out at him instead.

The ruby dragon's words as well as her fury had pushed her to abandon the Varden altogether. There was nothing for her there without her rider.

And then the elves, Eragon felt horror and anger as the elves were mauled to the brink of death with precision only because the dragon needed an outlet and their flowery talk and musical voices had irritated her. She then showed him that she had believed Arya was attempting to trick her somehow and had tried to prove he didn't exist.

At his dragon's actions, Eragon felt disgust and detestation toward his dragon's actions the past weeks, and he made no effort to hide it from her. _I had hoped that you would have been responsible enough to comport yourself in a manner deserving of a bonded dragon. _He said. Eragon swallowed. _Do you still defend what you have done?_

Saphira squirmed with discomfort. _I may have been imprudent_

_May have been? _He stared her in the eyes. After a few moments, she had to break eye contact. Shame filled her voice.

_I'm sorry._

Eragon felt a flash of anger. _It is not I to whom you must apologize. It was not me you wronged, but my friends and companions. It is to them that you must ask forgiveness. _He felt her fight her pride.

Then she lifted her head to Arya and held her gaze. _Eragon has made me see the wrong in my ways. _She admitted ashamedly. _I wish to remain your friend if you are not opposed to it._

Arya nodded slowly. The dragon did sound as if she regretted what she had done. _So long as you can accept that your rider and I love each other. _

The dragon was silent for a pause. _It is his choice. _She said.

Eragon pushed himself to his feet as they finished the conversation. "I need to talk with Nasuada." He said. "She needs to know."

Arya looked at him intently. Eragon swayed as he took a step, cringed from the pain. Arya supported him to take the weight off his injuries. "But after that, you should see Angela." He nodded wearily.

_I'm coming._ Saphira said, and Arya nodded.

They reached his cabin first and Eragon took a dose of the potion Angela had made to help with his pain. After that, he could walk on his own.

_Eragon._

His head shot up. _Master? _He questioned silently, looking at Arya. She smiled slightly and nodded.

_It heartens me to know that you are no longer with that cold-hearted murderer. But you are still troubled._

_Yes. _He admitted quietly. _I am going to the castle to tell Nasuada of what passed. If you wish, I shall bring you and you may hear of it yourself._

_Thank you. _Arya removed the traps set around the eldunari and brought it to Eragon who placed it in his pack.

He saw the red dragon glance up as he walked past. "Thorn." He called.

The dragon padded over.

_I am glad to see you have returned. I feared the worse when Shruikan took you._

Eragon could tell the dragon was giving him his full attention and decided to relay a message Murtagh had given him. _Before I ran, Murtagh told me to tell you that he misses you and would never condemn you for fleeing nor bearing another rider to protect you when he is not there._

Gratitude for Eragon's words flowed to him and Eragon looked at him. _Come, I am to tell my story of what happened to me in my absence. You may come and listen if you wish._

_I will come. _He hummed and Eragon nodded before turning back to Arya and limping toward the castle. He created a shadow and hid himself to all others, making it appear as if he were strong and healthy. At some point, Alia began to follow at his heels and he made no attempt to send her away. Her presence, if anything, reassured him.

Outside the door, they were admitted without question to find Roran arguing with Nasuada. They both stooped as the group entered, the three dragons snaking their heads in through the courtyard-side gap made especially for them. Eragon let himself be seen.

Roran stared. "Eragon… you look-"he broke off. "What's wrong?"

Eragon glanced at Saphira. "I'm fine." Then he looked at his dragon. _Saphira-_

_I know. _She looked over at Nasuada. The Varden's leader had not taken her eyes of the blue dragon since she had come. _Nasuada, I was wrong in my actions to try and harm you, and I hope you can forgive me._

She nodded. "It is understandable that you were distressed for the loss of your rider, but you would have endangered the Varden." Saphira turned her eyes to the floor. "However, I am willing to pretend as if it did not happen if only because I need to be able to trust you. As long as it does not happen again, I will forgive you."

_It will not. Thank you. Turning _so only Eragon could hear, she added quietly._ I will speak with Wyrda later. I was especially bad to him. He will not even come near me. _Eragon realized the reason Thorn was between them and nodded.

Then he turned to the others. Roran was about to leave. Eragon caught his arm. "Stay." He asked in a weak voice. Roran looked at him with concern and then nodded. Eragon cast spells against eavesdropping and spies. "Nasuada, I am here to tell of what passed during my absence."

She froze and looked at him before she gestured him to sit. Eragon took the chair. "When you are ready." She said gently as she noticed the jerkiness of his movements.

He nodded. Eragon sat stiffly, staring at the ground instead of any of the room's occupants. Roran had taken the chair beside him with Alia leaping into his lap, and Arya leaned against the wall. Nasuada sat with her elbows on the table in front of her, resting her chin on her hands. For almost ten minutes, no one moved as they waited for Eragon to be ready.

He sat with his eyes closed and mind fully shielded. His muscles were tense and he sat rigidly on the chair. Deep, regular breaths in and out were enough to tell Arya that he was trying to remain calm and almost failing.

Arya walked over from where she was leaning against the wall and stood behind him, placing her hands gently on his shoulders. A heavy breath left him and she felt a bit of the tension leave him. After another minute, Eragon spoke.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

Nasuada's eyes grew moist at the beaten down tone of his voice, and it was obvious she wished to say something, but a slight shake of Arya's head prevented her from doing so.

"Galbatorix beat me. I don't remember anything from when I was taken from Saphira to when I woke up in Uru'baen, but once I was there, the king offered me to join him. I refused, knowing the consequences, and I was taken down to the dungeons and tortured periodically. Every four hours or so, the king would torture me to the point of death and then leave me, only healing me right before the next session. The longer I fought, the more… creative the king became." Eragon shuddered. "A week passed so before he concluded that should he physically punish me to the end of time, I would not give in to him. Neither could he force his way into my mind as Vanilor had taught me well."

Eragon took a deep breath. "I was weak from what I had suffered, and the king is most skilled at deception. He brought me to the gardens with some story that Saphira had been taken. The image of her, bound and under the threat of a sword, was perfectly made, but I did not believe it. Then he asked me to lower the barriers around my mind to let her speak to me, promising he wouldn't attempt to take control of my mind. It... It had her voice. And then, when the image was cut with the sword, I felt it's pain. That, if anything convinced me. To spare her from what the king was planning on doing, I gave in.

"He broke into my mind and within minutes, he spoke my true name."

Roran let his breath out and slumped in his chair. Alia did not react other than to open both eyes rather than the one which had been fixed upon him. A startled gasp was drawn out of Nasuada and the dragon's flinched, Saphira letting out a quiet keen. He felt Arya's hands tighten on his shoulders, but then she seemed to force herself to relax, but her quickened breathing gave it away that she was upset.

Eragon ignored them and continued. "He forced many oaths out of me and cast spells over me, one of which was the inability to be healed with magic. Once he knew my Name, he knew my every weakness. He used them against me to try and break me. I think he might have if Murtagh hadn't been there too. When he made me kill a… an innocent child, I gave up. I couldn't go on. If not for Murtagh convincing me to continue, it would have been the end. Instead, I decided to run.

The phrasing of the king's oaths let me escape. Murtagh and I figured that the king meant for me to get away, but not quite so soon as I did. He knew that if I came back here, he would only have to wait until we met in Uru'baen and he could call me to serve him again."

A slight look of satisfaction burned in his eyes. "That is where I got the better of him. A long while ago, in Teirm, Solembum gave me a piece of advice. He told me that when all seemed lost and my power was insufficient, to go to the Rock of Kuthian and speak my name to open the Vault of Souls. I knew that this lay in the Caverns of the Wind and fled there for if at any time Solembum's words were true it was then. I went into the Caverns as deep as they reached."

He paused. "This part stays here. _They _did not want to become common knowledge. At the end of the tunnels, there was a large obelisk that glowed… wait." Eragon pulled it from where he had slipped the piece into his pocket after he had been healed. "This." He placed it on the table and Nasuada looked at it.

"The last of the Grey Folk lived there." He said and Arya gasped. "They told me that I could speak my name to the Rock and be judged. If I passed, which they claimed was unlikely, I would be given the answer to any one question. If I failed, I would be stripped of my life and turned away as a spirit to wander Alagaesia to the end of time. My only option was to try. And so I did.

"The Rock is an anchor between the Earth and the Void, the living and the dead. I spoke my name, and was judged by those who have passed. It was terrifying. Most of them were unfriendly or hostile to me, but others were kinder."

A tear fell from Eragon's eye. "I… I spoke with Brom." He took a breath. "Then Jarnunvösk spoke with me. After that, all those that I have killed surrounded me. I never realized how many lives I had taken. The worst was Lily, the child, she would ask why. It almost drove me insane. I was near the edge and would have been lost if Oromis had not saved me from them. He convinced me to continue and I was returned to the world of the living. I had been deemed worthy.

"I was given the opportunity to ask any one question and receive the answer. After a great deal of thought, I found the question. I asked for the name of the Ancient Language."

He heard gasps from many of the people in the room. "They made it so that I may never tell anyone, not may anyone steal it from my mind, but I know it. I could have freed myself from Galbatorix in that instant if I wanted to, but I knew that he would know and stayed my desire. It is an advantage. One of the few we have, and he will expect me to be under his control when we fight and so I must remain under his spells. I was badly injured and unable to heal myself, but I set to rejoin the Varden. I traveled the mountain-side of Leona Lake until Arya and Wyrda picked me up. If they had not found me then, I know not whether I would have made it back.

"That is all." Eragon closed his eyes and shook slightly, but Arya squeezed his shoulders gently and he relaxed under the reassuring pressure.

For a while there was silence and then Nasuada lifted her chin from her hands. "Thank you, Eragon." She said quietly.

He nodded stiffly. "We will have to make some other story up. The simple truth that I escaped should be enough. It will give the people hope that the king is not all-powerful."

Nasuada agreed. "We need whatever hope we can give to the people. As winter passes, their spirits fall. With your return, there has been much celebration and whatever else we can give them will help us."

_You have done better than I could have hoped. _Glaedr spoke as soon as the barriers to his mind had been lowered.

_Thank you. _Eragon paused. _Oromis wished for me to tell you that he is happy in the Void. He misses you, but one day you will be rejoined._

Gratitude and, for the first time since his rider's death, true joy filled the dragon's heart-of-hearts. _That means more to me than you could know. _He said before withdrawing in on himself.

Eragon got to his feet suddenly. "I want to leave."

"As you will." Nasuada nodded and he walked toward the door. Roran got to his feet.

"Eragon." Eragon looked back. Roran clasped his shoulder lightly. "I'll be leading an attack on Tilgrim, leaving in two days. It's not a very large city, more of a large village, but I will likely be gone for a while. Take care of yourself, eh?"

Eragon met his cousin's eyes and nodded, not speaking. "I was wondering if Alia might accompany me. She has agreed, but only if you do not mind."

"Alia is free to do as she wishes. I'll come and see you off."

Roran stepped back and Eragon went to the door. Arya began to follow but he shook his head. "I wish to be alone. Completely alone."

Understanding, Arya let him go.

**So there you go. Please leave me a review and tell me what you think.**


	36. Shade

**A.N. This one is a bit shorter, but I wanted to do it purely Murtagh. This chapter brings this fic, my first fic, up to over 100,000 words. And here it is. So there.**

'Come to the training room at noon.' Murtagh crumpled the king's note and flopped back down on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. A spy had reported that Eragon had returned to the Varden but that he had seemed injured.

"What are you up to, Brother?" He questioned. He poured a bit of his water in a pool on the table and cast the words necessary to scry his half brother. Unsurprisingly he was met with black nothingness. He ended the spell, knowing Eragon had wards that prevented him against others scrying him. And Galbatorix had banned him from seeking out Thorn in an attempt to weaken him.

A stray thought crossed his head and he scryed Saphira. Eragon hadn't set up new wards to protect her from magicians scrying her yet after his return and a slight smile crossed his face. The blue dragon had a deer in her claws. He altered the spell so he could hear what was happening as well.

_Saphira landed within castle walls upon the torn up ground. He watched as she deposited the deer carcass before a smaller, green dragon and waited. Neither dragon moved. Eragon walked into his view and went to the small green dragon. _

Murtagh had caught a glimpse of the dragon while it was younger when Shruikan had flown with him to capture Eragon, but was larger now.

'_Saphira_ is_ sorry.' His brother's voice told the dragon. The green beast lowered its head. Eragon stepped forward and raised its head with his hands. 'Wyrda.' The dragon stared at him and then turned to Saphira, communicating silently. He only could watch as finally the little green dragon nuzzled Saphira's neck before exiting his range of vision._

'_Arya.' His half-brother called. The elf walked over. A slight smiled crossed Murtagh's face as Arya put her hand on Eragon's arm. _So Eragon had managed to get his elf.

'_What is it, Eragon? Are you in pain?' _

'_You know I am, Arya. I just wished I could heal myself.' She nodded before Eragon continued. 'Someone tried to scry me.' He spoke quietly and she looked concerned. _

'_Galbatorix?' She asked. _

'_I'm not sure. By now he must know that I am back with the Varden. He has many spies.' Arya gazed at Wyrda. 'I think I may place wards on him to keep him safe. I know Saphira's were long since worn off.' Eragon leaned against his dragon. 'You're right. And Thorn should have them as well.'_

Murtagh held his breath as a brilliant ruby red dragon entered the scene and he felt tears sting his eyes as he saw the image of his dragon_. _

_At the dragon's right front leg strode an elf. Eragon spoke again. 'Someone tried to scry me not long ago. I am going to renew the wards around Saphira and I suggest that you put some around Thorn. The elf nodded and walked to Thorn's head and seemed to be communicating with the dragon before placing his palm on the dragon's snout. He whispered a few words and then withdrew. Eragon walked to Saphira and placed his palm on her nose as well._

Murtagh cut the spell before Eragon would sense its existence and closed his eyes, thinking. For the first time since he had known his dragon, Thorn had looked at peace. The dragon had looked as if he was accepted, as if he fit in somewhere. He wasn't seen as a traitor at least to that small group he was with.

He could not help a torrent of confused emotions flooding his mind.

Relief that his dragon was healthy and in good hands, that he was _happy._

Confusion over what Eragon was playing at. He knew that Eragon would not go back to the Varden only to be forced to betray them in the end. Eragon knew something.

Resentment that it was not him standing at his dragon's side, but an elf he did not know.

Hope that the Varden would pull through and that he might be free once again.

Jealousy that it had been Eragon that had gotten away and not him.

Sighing, he looked out the window and decided that it was near noon. Strapping Zar'roc to his waist and forcing his emotions away, he concentrated on the one that was stronger than all to hide his true thoughts from the king: his hatred for what the king had done to his life. He arrived outside the training room and wondered what new abomination the king would be teaching him.

He flinched when he opened the door and saw the shade inside, waiting. Murtagh saw the king watching and entered slowly, attempting to hide his revulsion over the shade's contemptuous presence.

"You were almost late." The king stated flatly as Murtagh stepped into view.

"I will do better next time, master." Murtagh answered meekly, shutting the door behind him as he entered the large hall the king had used to train him in. he stood silently, waiting for the king to make known his intentions.

"Líril has no experience with the sword or any other method of fighting yet. Her instincts are good, but they are no replacement for experience. I wish for you to teach her." Murtagh tensed. "You _will _teach her." He finished.

Líril smiled at him with darkness swirling behind her maroon eyes. The king regarded them with a thoughtful expression. "You will also remember that the two of you are on the same side. And Murtagh, so long as you obey, you will be her superior, but should you disobey, you may be put under her command instead."

Murtagh looked at the king and swallowed. He would _not _serve a shade if it meant his life. If he had to work with her to avoid working for her, so be it. He would do what he must.

"What shall I teach her?" he asked the king.

"You may begin with the art of sword fighting. I have made her a sword and she will likely be using it sometime in the near future, so the sooner she leans it the better." Murtagh nodded. "And Murtagh? Do not attempt to butcher her training. I would know."

With a grimace, Murtagh drew his blade and walked over to the shade. "Do you know how to use magic yet? She raised her eyebrows and then rolled her eyes. "Fine then. It was just a question." He muttered. Murtagh blocked his blade and then told her the words and observed her block her own. It was done well. He led her to the middle of the room.

"Alright. So the first thing you need to learn is the proper stance. Even if you are faster and stronger than your opponent, they can defeat you easily if you have a bad stance. So, turn you body like this –good– and bend your knees more. Yes, that's right." Murtagh demonstrated how to strike without leaving oneself open and then decided that it would be easiest to learn through trial and error.

"Now you will attempt to touch me with your blade." He held up Zar'roc and lunged toward her, striking her on the shoulder.

Her expression grew angry as was Murtagh's intent and the shade lunged for him with her blade, leaving herself completely open. Murtagh danced to the side and tapped her again, this time in the ribs. She growled and made a series of frenzied lunges at him, but Murtagh could see what she was about before she even started from his experience. He parried each strike and then slapped the flat of his blade against the hilt of her sword, sending it clattering to the ground.

As she bent to pick it up, Galbatorix smiled. "Líril, while I have no doubts you could easily destroy a regular human already with how you fight, your targets will be elves and riders, and you must learn the art, not only relying on your speed and strength to carry you through. Again." The shade turned her hate filled look from the man who was enslaving her to the claret blade and she smiled, showing slightly pointed teeth as she glanced back at the king. She nodded and looked at Murtagh.

For two hours the king kept them at it until Murtagh could no longer beat the shade every time. She had only truly beaten him once. It worried and annoyed him how quickly the shade had picked up the blade. Once she had managed to slip her sword around his guard and press it against his throat. The feel of that cool weapon and knowing it was held there by a shade, the embodiment of evil, had made him feel ill. Not only that, he knew that this shade was meant for Eragon.

Finally free, Murtagh locked himself in his room and washed his face, trying to forget Líril's leering smiles and the way her eyes followed his every move like an animal testing its prey for weakness. Not knowing what rules the king had imposed upon the shade made the feeling worse and he knew that he would not have an easy time sleeping knowing that Líril was in the same city, let alone building as he himself was in.

He knew it was selfish, but Murtagh wished his brother had been brought back to the castle. Knowing someone was there who did not intend to place a knife in his back and who wouldn't try to use him had been a nice change, one he hadn't know since Thorn had still been around.

Fear struck at his chest as his mind drifted to his dragon. Thorn's _Name _had changed. His very essence and Murtagh had not spoken with him since before then. Would he even know his own dragon if they spoke? Murtagh cursed the king and pressed it from his mind. Thorn and him were bonded. His dragon would not be so different that he would reject him.

But the image of Thorn among that group he had scryed was not the dragon he knew. Thorn had always acted afraid, almost like a beaten dog. He had been submissive and had never stood up for himself. The dragon in that image he had no doubt would not let someone trample him.

The familiar ache of longing was pushed aside with slight irritation. It was a weakness, a weakness he could not afford. Not when there was a shade nearby.

Líril was a quandary. To have seen the terrified girl before the transformation was strange. He knew she had had blond hair and soft blue eyes. She had been normal. Pretty. With a little research he had discovered that her name was Marian before. From what he had understood, she had been a spy in Uru'baen for the Varden.

And her fate was worse than death. Though the lines of her face and her figure were the same, there was a wild danger about her very look, almost like an aura of dark magic. Her eyes had become a deep crimson, strikingly dark against her pale skin. And her hair was unnatural. It fell to her waist in scarlet curls.

She might have been considered beautiful.

But Murtagh knew better than that. The hatred and vengeance that was displayed in her eyes was depthless. He knew that the only things restraining her from killing the king, him, and everyone else who got in her way were whatever oaths the king had forced from her with her Name. She was a Shade. The woman she had been was no more.

And she would die if he had to see to it himself.

**I wasn't so sure about this. I don't like trying to write Murtagh because he is unlike any of the characters in my own novel and I can't use those to write him. But whatever, I bet you don't care. Just tell me what you thought. **

**Oh, and the three hundredth reviewer will get a chapter dedicated to them.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	37. Healing

**A.N. Though kind of cheating to get it, I did not specify that you could only review once in order to receive the dedication and because of that, this chapter is dedicated to thegayperson for sending the 300****th**** review to this story. **

**Here is the chapter. Read!**

Arya walked into Eragon's cabin and took a seat beside him on the bed. He glanced up and then sighed, returning to tying knots in a piece of string he had. It kept his mind off of everything else.

"Are you alright, Eragon?" Arya asked quietly, unsure of how he would react.

"Fine." He said tersely.

She let it drop, watching his grim expression as he returned to tying knots, keeping his hands busy. Nothing had managed to make him smile since his return. There was silence for a long while.

_Eragon. _Glaedr's voice called him and he set down the string, drawing out the pouch the eldunari was in as Arya watched curiously.

_Yes, master?_

_I am no longer your master, Eragon. You may call me by my name._

_I am honored. _He said seriously, amazed that his former teacher could consider him an equal. Eragon looked down at the spiraling strains of golden light inside the heart-of-hearts and was transfixed by the lack of pattern. _For what did you call me?_

There was a long pause. _I know you have suffered much in a short while, but you are only hurting yourself further now. And you need to stop._

_Hurting myself? _He asked, startled.

_Yes, yourself and Saphira._

_How?_

He heard a mental growl from the dragon. _Keeping things from the partner-of-your-soul is harmful to both rider and dragon. You need to let her in. _There was silence and then Glaedr spoke again. _Eragon?_

Eragon was staring at his hands at the small cuts and burns that stood out against his skin. He then thought of everything the king had done to harm him and of the girl he had been forced to murder and how he had chosen her death, making the decision that death was better than what Galbatorix would have had him do. Her blood was on his hands. He had left Murtagh to the king's fury, knowing full well that he would take the fall for Eragon's disappearance. The multitude of those he had killed that watched from the Vault. Everything he had not let her see.

_Yes, Glaedr. I will._

Eragon stood, placing Glaedr's eldunari with Arya and then left the cabin without a word to the elf that was watching him closely. Eragon walked out into the snow covered gardens and then knelt before Saphira who was sleeping.

He reached out and touched her snout gently, causing her to flinch away and open her eyes. Saphira, once she had seen who had snuck up on her, laid her head back down and observed him with glittering eyes.

_Welcome, Little One._

It once would have made him smile, but eragon only returned the greeting. _Saphira. _Then he ducked his head. _Glaedr called me out on hiding what happened from you, and he is right. You are my dragon and I shouldn't keep anything, let alone things as important as what happened._His hand rubbed the scales of her nose and she suddenly pulled back with a strange snort.

_You're going to make me sneeze. _She said, shaking her head. He watched with slight amusement and waited for her to return to her former position before he moved to lean against her side. Almost reflexively, she curled around him, her head placed where she could observe him easily.

Eragon took a deep breath and lowered the barriers around his mind with difficulty. It was a challenge not to slam them back up and hide, but he would have to face his past.

Saphira's touch was gentle at first as Eragon flinched, almost blocking her again. He was breathing heavily as she sifted through his memories, trying not to dwell on them as Eragon was becoming more upset. When she reached Lily, a growl rippled from her throat. She did not comment, however, but laid her head on his leg and continued.

She lingered on the encounter with the Grey Folk and the discussions with their teacher's and Galbatorix's first dragon. Finally she observed his journey and his own encounter with Saphira. She withdrew slightly, but maintained the connection with his mind.

_I will tear him to shreds. _She said, her tail flicking dangerously back and forth.

Eragon reached out a hand to her. _You aren't angry?_

_Of course not. _She growled. _Nothing you did was your fault. _Saphira blew a bit of smoke from her nostrils. _I suppose I owe you the same. I already know I was wrong._

Her mind opened completely to his. Eragon could not help feeling slightly angry as she spurned arya and was a bit surprised that she had actually been considering attacking Nasuada. She would have if Wyrda hadn't stepped in. The attack on the elves was the worst as he could sense her precise knowledge of what would and wouldn't kill. But for the first time he knew why she had acted as she did.

The sense of loss, knowing she might end up fighting her rider, or that Eragon could be ordered to kill her was overwhelming. And she had been aware of his torture and pain the entire time, a dragon helpless to save her rider. As her emotions hit him, Eragon suddenly wondered if he wouldn't have acted the same.

When the images stopped, he reached out to her through her shame. _All is forgiven, Saphira. I understand. _She nodded her head and the two sat together for hours, minds completely bared to their partners.

After a while, Eragon walked to his cabin where Angela was standing by the door. She smiled at him and then went inside, waiting for Eragon to close the door.

"Sit." She commanded, pointing at his bed.

Eragon raised his eyebrows and obeyed, choosing not to argue with the witch as he knew she would get her way in the end.

Angela unbound his arm first and frowned. The cut was still an angry red and the wound was filled with pus. Eragon turned his face away as she began to work, draining the wound and treating it with a new poultice.

"How are your ribs?" She asked.

"Hurts, but otherwise fine. It's expected."

"It is." She agreed. Angela bound his knee in cloths to support it and then moved on to his less serious wounds. After a while, she had finished. "Do you still wish for the pain reliever or are you alright?"

"If it is all the same with you, I would take the pain reliever."

She nodded. "I'll have to make more, but I'll bring it here in a few hours." She shook her head. "I think I have put more hours into tending your injuries…"

"But I do have more proficient enemies."

"Bah. You need to defend yourself better. Especially if we cannot heal you with magic. A bad wound that leaves you unconscious and then- well, just avoid that, will you?"

"I'll try." Eragon said dryly, shaking his head as she left. The herbalist never ceased to be interesting.

With a sigh, Eragon grabbed his bow and quiver and went outside to sit near Saphira as he fletched more arrows.

* * *

><p>Roran walked to the door with Alia on his heels and eyed the six guards –two humans, two dwarves, and two urgals– that always stood guard outside of Nasuada's door. They looked at him for a long moment and then stepped aside, opening the doors.<p>

Nasuada glanced up from a table where she was holding a conversation with a girl that looked about her age if a little older. She stood.

"Roran Stronghammer."'

He smiled. "Lady Nightstalker."

A faint smile touched her lips and then she leveled her expression. "This is Vea. She will be second-in command on your attack of Tilgrim."

Roran scowled. He had seen the girl around Angela's tent often, but he had never spoken with her.

Dark brown, nearly black hair fell to her waist, captured in a braid, loose wisps held away from her face with a leather headband. Her face as round, her skin fair, and her eyes a clear blue. She was tall for a women, but she was not near Roran's height.

Roran turned back to Nasuada. "I need to be able to trust thos beneath me, my second-in-command especially. I do not know her at all nor has she led a mission before."

Vea stepped forward, anger flashing in her eyes. "If Lady Nasuada had assigned me and I were a man, you would not bat an eyelash at her choice."

"I would have." Roran stated. "Nasuada would not have chosen you if she did not believe you could be of use."

"She would not have chosen me if I she did not trust me."

"really." Nasuada cut through their bickering, glaring at them both. "You _will _fail if you keep up this arguing. Roran, Vea was the one to get Wyrda's egg from the king. Vea, Roran will challenge anyone he does not agree with. If you were a man, he would not have agreed any quicker."

Roran paused as Alia crossed the room to sniff curiously at Vea. Then she returned and threaded her way in and out of Roran's ankles.

_She can be trusted, I believe. The werecat Thitan has chosen to accompany her, and he would not join with her unless he knew her to be honorable and support the Varden._

He glanced at the werecat and then nodded. "I can trust you." He said. He then returned to address Nasuada. "I am ready to depart unless there was more."

"Your men await outside the city walls. The magician Carn is among them as well per your request."

"Very well. I must see Eragon before we depart though. He bid me stop by and get something though I am not sure what."

"Good luck and do not take foolish risks."

They left through the door. "Alright." Roran turned to Vea. "I need to go and speak with Eragon, you can go and wait with the other men."

"No." She said, drawing a bottle from her sleeve. "Angela asked me to deliver his potion to Eragon. I'll need to stop by as well."

"fine." He began to walk through the halls of the castle. "How do you fight?"

"mainly I am a magician. I use poisoned throwing knives at a distance and a sword in close combat."

He nodded, cataloguing the information for future use.

Vea glanced at the werecat. "She is your companion?"

"No. She has chosen to accompany Eragon, but she is coming along. We have fought together before and there is no one I would rather have at my side." He glanced at her. "Will Thitan be coming?"

"How-?"

"Alia can smell him on you and she recognized the scent. So is he coming with us?"

"I'll ask. He only joined me yesterday." Her expression went blank for a moment and then she nodded. "He will fight."

They walked in silence to the gardens and Roran approached Eragon who was crouched on the ground by Saphira's head, whittling wood into shafts. When Roran was still twenty feet away, he raised his head and then stood, turning.

"You're leaving then?"

"Aye. You told me to stop by, not that I wouldn't anyway. Arrows?"

Eragon looked at the arrows he had made. "Yeah. I don't have all that many, and every battle I lose more. My bow doesn't work with the arrows the humans use here."

Roran grimaced.

"What?"

"I have it when you do that."

"Do what?"

He shook his head. "When you refer to 'humans' or 'men' as if you are not one of them. I know you have changed but…"

Eragon met Roran's eyes. "I don't belong. I do not fit into any of the species on Alagaesia."

"Does it bother you?"

"I admit it used to, but not anymore. It doesn't really matter anyway. Alia or Arya is not really much different that you or I, whatever we are called. What's it matter?"

"I suppose." Roran shifted uncomfortably on his feet, uncomfortable. "Anyway. You said you had something for me?"

Eragon nodded. "It's in my cabin. Let me-" before he could even take a step, Saphira cut in.

_Your leg is bothering you. Arya will get it._

Eragon shook his head in slight amusement. "I guess Arya will get it then." He said, rolling his eyes at his overprotective dragon, but thankfully rubbing her head at the same time.

Arya came over and handed Eragon the ring with a small but pure diamond he had called up from deep within the earth and mounted on a ring. "A magician may store energy in gems to draw on it later. As you can now use magic, I made this for you and helped to fill it with the dragons' help. It is not a large gem, but it will help."

Roran took it and placed it on his hand. "Thank you."

Eragon nodded. "Also, if you have the time and are about to cast a complex spell, check the wording with Alia first. You do not wish to make mistakes with magic or it could cost you your life. Be careful."

"I did not know what I was doing last time." He admitted. "I got lucky, but I know now that I should never have attempted what I did. But since then, I have more knowledge." He smiled ruefully. "Angela took that as a sign to try and force as much common sense and knowledge into my mind as she possibly could."

Vea walked over. Eragon looked at her. "You are going with Roran?"

She nodded sharply. "Here. Angela bid me give this to you." She handed him the stoppered vial and then withdrew.

Eragon cast several wards around Roran as the old had worn off and then nodded. He looked to Arya for a minute and then turned to Alia.

"Alia, may I put wards around you as well?"

_Yes. _She said simply, sitting on her haunches as Eragon designed wards to place on her to protect her from harm. He finished quickly and then nodded.

_Thank you, Eragon._

"You used my name." eh said in surprise as she had never done it before.

_Good to know you recognized it. _She said dryly, cocking her head to the left. _Don't get used to it, rider. Good bye._

With that the group departed and a small smile came over Eragon's face, the first smile since his time in Uru'baen. The healing process had begun.

**Alright. So tell me your thoughts. The more reviews, the sooner the update!**


	38. Of Names

**A.N. It snowed! And I finally got a beta. So thanks to ShinkuNamide for taking this on. Other then that, there are no major announcements to make. So read and enjoy.**

"Eragon, would you come here a minute?" He glanced up. He had been drawing patterns in the snow with a stick. Arya walked over to where he was and gave him a critical look. "Why aren't you wearing a coat?"

Eragon looked startled. "I didn't realize…"

She sighed. "You can't stand to be getting ill with your condition." She shook her head and continued. "I was going to tell you that my mother wishes to speak with us. She… she heard about our relationship when you were taken."

Eragon's shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly and he nodded stiffly, dropping the stick and following Arya into her cabin. He looked around, not having seen the interior of her cabin before. Arya had taken the time to make her cabin her own in small ways. A fairth of her father and her sat on a table. Another fairth of Wyrda at his hatching hung on the wall. There were several other small touches as well.

Eragon looked at the mirror nervously, and Arya smiled at him reassuringly, though it was obvious that she too was anxious. "She has never had any semblance of control over my life, Eragon. In any regard."

She cast the spell on the full length mirror set up in her cabin and the image blurred from the reflection of the room they were in to display the Queen of the Elves, scowling. Eragon raised his fingers to his lips and began the ritual greeting. The queen responded, and then Arya repeated the greeting.

Arya walked from beside the mirror and went to sit beside Eragon where he had sat on her bed, close enough to him that her knee was touching his. She returned the scowl her mother was giving them coldly. Eragon watched the glaring contest between the two elven monarchs uncomfortably at the challenge between them.

Queen Islanzadí broke the glare first and then looked at Eragon. "Eragon, while my daughter seeks to ignore me and my counsel, you have sense. This… this relationship must end."

"Why?" Eragon had no intentions on changing anything with Arya, but he would do his best not to upset the queen.

The queen was absently crumpling a small piece of silk between her hands. "Arya is my daughter, the heir to the throne, she is a hundred years your senior –you are naught but a child,– she is an elf and you are human. And we are in a _war_. To begin a relationship… You will only hurt her and yourself."

Eragon was unsurprised to see the same arguments that Arya had held him back with from the beginning. He felt Arya's hand rest on his knee and took a breath, considering his words.

"I was no longer a human after the Agaetí Blodhren. I-"

She cut in. "Then pray tell what you are if not a human. For you are no elf."

Eragon shrugged. "I am a Rider." He said simply. "And your daughter is as well. She is no longer the heir to the elven throne either. Not since Wyrda hatched." He frowned. "While I would never deny that I do not have many years, I was no longer a child the moment that my uncle, Garrow, was killed. I have seen and done things that most elves have never done and things they will never be forced to do. The burden of the war and the responsibility of the king have been placed solely on my shoulders. I am no child."

"Be as it may, that does not change at all the fact that we are in a war, and becoming close to someone will only ever result in them being torn away."

Arya, who had been keeping quiet, suddenly spoke. "Mother. When in my life have I been truly happy? The closest I came was when I was with Faolin." She took a deep breath, her eyes moist. "You disapproved of him as well."

"And I was right. That has caused you much grief, has it not?"

"Faolin was killed, yes, but would you deny me happiness. Even a brief time of joy is better than none. Would you design me to live the entirety of my life alone? Eragon makes me happy, mother. I will not give that up solely because you disapprove."

Eragon put his arm around her and Arya let out the breath she had been holding.

The queen frowned. "You have not known each other a year. You are not meant to be together."

"And you would know how?" Arya frowned. "Do not pretend to understand me, mother. Tell me, did you speak to me once when I returned from Gilead? You still blame me for our tarnished relationship. What have I done? And do not pretend to know Eragon either."

The queen was silent for a long while, looking at the two of them. "There is no way either of you will change your minds?" She seemed to already know the answer.

"I will not."

"Never."

She nodded wearily. "Arya, I lost your father to the first Rider War. I do not wish to lose you again as I lost you when you were taken to Gilead. If I must deal with _this _for us not to be estranged again, I will."

"Thank you." Arya said quietly.

Her mother turned to address some person beyond their view. "I must go." With a sharp nod, but no other dismissal, the queen cut the spell on her end and disappeared from her sight.

Tension that had seemed to be filling the room faded and they relaxed, not speaking. Eragon met her eyes. "I never meant to come between you and your mother."

Arya shook her head. "Don't blame yourself. My mother and I have rarely been on better terms than we are at this moment, and better that we have been for sixty years."

Eragon stood and walked over to the table where the fairth of her and her father was. A tall elven man with a smile stood in the forest, the mixture of shadow and light dappling the ground and the trees stretching all around. A laughing young girl clung to her father's hand, not a care in the world was in her mind as he made colored lights with magic before her eyes. He smiled.

"Do you miss him?"

Arya came over and took the fairth to examine it closer. Then she closed her eyes in thought. "My memories of him are like a dream, half forgotten yet vivid and wonderful. I was but a child when he passed into the Void." She looked down at the fairth again. "Yes. I miss him."

He nodded and then met her eyes, biting his lip slightly as he hesitated.

"What is it, Eragon?"

He watched her intently. "I want you to know my true name."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Eragon-"

He took her hand. "I know the significance and what it means to tell, Arya, and I trust you. I wish for you to know it."

She was silent for a long while before she nodded slightly. "I am honored that you want to share your true name with me, Eragon."

Eragon took a breath and then locked eyes with her, pushing aside the self-consciousness rising within him. Quietly, he spoke his name. She listened and then considered him without speaking.

His name was a phrase, but it captured his entire being in it. It spoke of his good, his loyalty, his honesty, and his morality. It pointed toward his determination and hopefulness. His love. But it also exposed his faults, his stubbornness and selfishness, but it was the end which caused Arya to take his hand in hers. In his name he bore the burden of the world. The burden others had placed on his shoulders."

She did not speak for a moment and Eragon felt bare. She could see him without any of his masks he wore or the façades he hid behind. Then she repeated his name in a whisper and smiled at him. "It is a good name." he glanced down. Arya shifted.

"I want you to know mine."

Her voice was soft enough that he almost didn't hear. "Are you sure?"

She looked up to meet his eyes. "I have never told anyone my true name before." She admitted. "Wyrda doesn't even know." She took a breath. "But yes, I am sure."

He nodded and waited, patient because he knew she was feeling as nervous and hesitant as he had been before he had garnered enough courage to utter his Name. After a while, she whispered her name.

The Truth about Arya hit him with surprise and he realized that though he knew her better than anyone save Wyrda, he had only touched the surface of who she was. Her name was longer than his and held a tone of sadness. It bespoke her solitariness and her dread of what came from bonding with others. He learned new things about her that he would not have expected. There was joy also in her name along with hope.

Eragon realized suddenly that Arya was watching him nervously, waiting for him to speak. Wanting to reliever her anxiety, but unsure of what he could say, Eragon stepped forward and embraced her. "I am glad to know you." He said quietly to her.

Arya was still for a moment and then pulled away from him. "My Name changed in Gilead." She said quietly. "Before, I was more open, but after…" she trailed off and silence overtook them. Neither spoke again until they parted at sunset to rest.

* * *

><p>"What now?" Roran growled, scowling as he turned Snowfire to face the person riding up behind him . "I don't have time for- Oh, Baldor." Roran said awkwardly. "I thought you were…"<p>

"Someone else, no doubt." His friend from Carvahall said with an amused smirk. "Can't you try to get along with her?"

Roran huffed. "She won't be serious. We are on a mission. We are going to attack Tilgrim. Men will _die. _And she jokes." He shook his head in annoyance. "Whatever possessed Nasuada to send her on this, to name her second-in-command, is beyond me."

Laughter rang out from the men behind Roran and he looked over his shoulder to see Vea riding in the middle of a crowd, telling stories again, distracting his men from what would be coming. "Vea!" He shouted. "Come here!"

Baldor shook his head and went to rejoin the other men. Vea rode up on her black mare. She had received it from Nasuada before they departed. It was pure black, even its hooves and mane were pure black. She had named it Nightmare, to her own amusement, and no one else dared near her horse as it was spirited and had already injured several people.

To his annoyance, both of the werecats, hers and Alia, flanked her as she rode over to him.

"Yes?"

"I want to talk to you-"

"Obviously." She stated dryly.

"What are you playing at?" Roran demanded. "Those men may be marching to their deaths and you joke. You laugh and pretend as if this is all a big game. You joke and make merry, not caring that these soldiers might not live out the week."

He was surprised to see her eyes narrow and her mouth tighten into an angry line. "Is that really what you think?" She asked in a quiet voice. "Then you are a fool."

"It-"

She cut him off. "Look at your men, _Stronghammer_, and tell me what you see."

Roran glared at her and then grudgingly looked back to watch his soldiers marching. The men behind him were talking and smiling among each other. Suddenly it struck him as odd their behavior. The other missions he had led the men were morose and silent as if marching to their deaths. The only time they would talk and laugh was late at night as they gambled and drank.

Vea nodded. "You understand now. I _am _distracting them, but I am not distracting them from the task at hand. I am simply helping them forget some of their fear and worry."

"I…" Roran sighed. He knew she was right. "I apologize. I did not see the purpose of your actions."

Roran fell silent as Vea rode stiffly in her saddle, not acknowledging him. Alia leapt up onto his lap to settle for a nap. Roran sighed.

Vea finally looked over. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Depends."

She nodded. "Why do you fight with the determination that you do." She stopped him before he answered. "I know your story. Everyone does, but now Katrina is safe from the Ra'zac and remaining with the army puts her in more danger than before."

Roran was silent.

"If you don't want to answer-"

"No, I see your point." He sighed. "Galbatorix, if the Varden loses, would hunt down me and Katrina and, she's pregnant. He would destroy our family because we are Eragon's family. We are seen as a danger to him." He looked over. "I want to help get rid of him. I want to make the world safe for my child."

She nodded and looked away. Roran rode on for a while before turning. "So why do you fight?"

He wasn't expecting the fear that came into her eyes. Vea bit her lip. "I… No. I won't answer that."

He stared at her in surprise. "Um, are you alright?"

"Galbatorix does not even deserve death." She said quietly. "There is no fate cruel enough for him." Vea looked up. "You have no idea how close you were to fighting me instead of fighting with me."

Roran tried to make sense of her words but couldn't. He watched her out of the corner of his eyes. As he opened his mouth, Alia spoke.

_Roran, you do not understand and she does not wish to enlighten you. No amount of prodding could change her mind._

He nodded and Alia closed her eyes again, returning to her former position, resting. "Does Nasuada know your past, why you fight?"

"No."

He felt another wave of doubt about his partner rise in him. How could Nasuada ask him to trust her when she did not even know reasons why he should?

Vea seemed to understand. "Angela knows." She said. He looked over and saw her watching him. "Eragon and Arya know also as well as their dragons."

"If they know I suppose it's alright." He said unsurely.

She ignored him. Then she halted her horse and stared. "Is that it?"

Roran shielded his eyes from the sun with an upheld hand and squinted. Barely visible, on the horizon, was the outline of walls. "Tilgrim." He affirmed. They rode closer, not caring for the element of surprise as they knew they were already spotted by a scout they had seen fleeing toward Tilgrim.

Suddenly Roran stopped his men and called in the leaders. "We'll wait here for the night and attack with the dawn. I've been informed that the southern portion of the city has weaker walls then the rest, and while we can assume that there will be more men there to make up for it, we will likely need to smash our way into the city to take control."

Vea stood. "Carn, you, I , and Roran are all spellcasters and will need to work closely together. We will be in the front and attempt to bring down the walls after our siege weapons have had a shot at them."

A man stood and they turned to look at them. "Tilgrim is known for the catapults they keep on the walls to fight off invaders. They could wreak destruction on our men."

Alia leapt to Roran's lap and meowed quietly, calling his attention to her. _Leave their catapults to us. Thitan and I can take care of them while everyone sleep. Humans are so oblivious to werecats' existence that they will think nothing of us but a large alley cat._

Roran moved his hand to scratch her ears, smiling as she began to purr loudly. "Are you sure?"

_Easy. _She answered, nudging away his hand. _We will go when all is dark._

He turned to the group watching him. "The werecats have volunteered to remove the catapults."

One of the men snorted in disbelief. "The werecats? Can't trust them to do anything. Worse than the Urgals. They're beasts."

Alia stood, her claws tightening, cutting into Roran's skin as she hissed threateningly at the man. Her fur was standing up on end and she looked ready to kill. Before it got out of hand, Roran stepped in.

"Take it back and apologize to her." Roran ordered the man. The man walked closer and Roran could smell the mead on his breath. He cursed quietly.

"I will not apologize to… to _that_. The Varden was bad enough to start with, joining with the dwarves, and the elves were even worse. But Urgals and werecats?" The man spat. "I wonder why I still fight for them."

Alia tensed and Roran knew she was about to spring. Her eyes were fixed on his neck, teeth bared in anticipation. As he felt her prepare to spring, Roran did the only thing he could to stop her from attacking but keeping her anger from him. He stood. Startled, the werecat leapt to the ground to land on her feet. She glanced up at Roran in annoyance.

"Insubordination." Roran growled. "Hadran, you are deprived of your position and will face judgment upon returning to the Varden." He gestured to Carn, one of the only men he knew personally and could be sure of their loyalty. "Find rope and have him bound. There is no way we can risk him betraying us."

"Stronghammer, he is drunk." One of the men protested quietly.

"Yes, something a leader cannot afford." Roran agreed. "And I've found that being drunk makes one more prone to state their true thoughts without the inhibition that a sober man would have." Carn returned and forced the man to his knees, binding him tightly and having two men he brought with carry him back away.

Roran looked at the others. "Does anyone else wish to voice a complaint against the werecats?"

There were a variety of negative responses coming from the group and Roran nodded, satisfied. He sat down and Alia leapt back onto his lap, still miffed at the man's treatment of her. Roran stroked her fur gently, trying to calm the werecat.

"Alia, it's been taken care of." He spoke softly.

She turned her yellow-gold eyes onto him and then curled into a ball. _You should have let me attack him. I wasn't going to kill, only wound._

He shook his head at her mentality. "And that would have helped how?"

_And this did? At least I could have had revenge. _She growled quietly, closing her eyes, but by now he was not fooled by her pretense of sleeping. _You should have let me._

"Perhaps I should have." He mused before turning the waiting men. "Now. We have more planning to do than before as Haldran's men will now have to be split among the rest of us and the strategy must be revised." Roran sighed, wishing not for the first time that he had never heard of Galbatorix nor picked up a hammer.

They continued planning late into the night until the werecats slunk off toward the city to begin the attack.

**If anyone was wondering, I am not neglecting my other fic. I read the first half of Inheritance and found a lot of random info I need to sort into my story and find places for it. A big thanks to CP for making Angela the biggest MarySue in the history of novels. Yeah.**

**Please leave a review and tell me what you thought of this chapter. Thanks.**


	39. Tilgrim

**A.N. There was a bit of a wait, but it was Thanksgiving and then I got sick. Thanks to my beta: 4ku-Ten5hi. Anyway, here it is. Enjoy!**

Alia ran along the edge of the wall, her paws hitting the stone with almost silent thuds as she slipped through the night like a ghost, the moon casting a faint glow upon her white fur.

A lantern approached and she leapt down into the shadow behind a catapult, hissing for the dark tabby werecat to join her. Thitan watched the guard for a moment with unblinking eyes and then joined her. _Shall we begin?_He questioned.

Alia growled her answer and Thitan transformed into the shape of a child-like being with dark skin and almost black eyes. Drawing a short silver knife, he slashed at a cord on the siege weapon. The werecats both hissed in pain at the sharp crack that resounded as the arm of the catapult exploded, sending debris flying in every direction.

A single horn sounded.

And then the guards began to spill out onto the wall, called to duty.

Alia and Thitan slipped around their feet, dodging their boots as the foolish men looked about in confusion for the intruders, unaware that they were, quite literally, right under their noses. Alia cut the next cord with her teeth and the catapult reeled backward with the shock of the explosion, releasing a resounding snap like a falling tree. The structure hung, destroyed.

The men, now worked into a panic by the apparent invisible attackers, ran toward them from both directions, seeking the noise from the catapult.

_Thitan, they're on both sides of us._

He raided his nose to the air and then eyed the nearing guards. _What do you think?_

_Split up and confuse the two-legs._

Thitan nodded to the snowy werecat and then ran inside the shadow along the wall's edge, his dark coat making him nigh on invisible to the poorly sighted men.

Alia watched him for a moment until she heard the first catapult collapse. As the men's attention was focused down the wall, she slipped from the shadows and wove between the men's legs, taking out a few of the men as she hamstringed them upon passing. Screams and curses rose into the midnight air. Confusion reigned as yet another crack drew their attention away from their fallen comrades. Using the chaos as a cloak, Alia bounded to the next catapult on the wall and destroyed the siege weapon with ease.

It took nearly an hour before all the catapults were destroyed. Several men lay dead or dying, their throats torn as they had seen the werecats. Alia's pure coat was soaked in blood. It was beginning to congeal, leaving an unpleasant stickiness to her fur. A yowl caught her sensitive hearing and Alia ran along the edge of the wall toward the noise. She saw her partner waiting on the ground.

She eyed the twenty foot drop to the ground once, and then, without second thought, she leapt off the wall, spreading her feet and bracing herself for the impact, allowing her muscles to absorb the blow. As soon as she hit, Alia slipped over to the older werecat.

_You're injured._Alia said, smelling the blood and pain from the tabby. She nosed his left back leg. It looked broken.

_I was not careful, and the backlash from one of the catapults struck my leg. Are you injured?_

_Nothing worth mentioning._She said, checking her wounds once more to be sure. _Can you travel?_

_I must._He limped a few steps forward toward the distant camp. Alia traveled alongside, matching his laborious speed.

A loose stone slid and tripped Thitan as he stepped on it. The werecat reflexively put weight on his bad leg and fell as it failed to support him. A pained whine slipped from his throat as he struggled to stand back up.

_Stop._Alia demanded. She transformed into her human shape and picked up her partner before breaking into a brisk jog.

Thitan did not protest being carried and allowed himself to be borne by the younger, uninjured werecat. He was silent for a mile or so and then he shifted, trying to become more comfortable. _You have stopped having difficulty with this form then?_He asked curiously.

Alia narrowed her eyes and bared her teeth in a growl. _It is yet difficult, but it is necessary as well. I do not understand anyway what is pleasurable about being as restricted as this form holds you._

Thitan was silent for a minute. _Yes, but the use of hands can be helpful. And to communicate with other two-legs._

_At the loss of speed, mobility, strength, hearing, smell, and sight?_

_Are you complaining that you can shift? Some of us never can._

_I am not complaining._Alia spoke softly to the elder werecat, dropping the subject.

It was another ten minutes before they came across a guard to the camp. He nodded to them and allowed them by without question, obviously having been forewarned of the werecat's mission.

Alia slipped through the camp and entered Roran's tent, depositing Thitan on her own cushion. Roran had been cleaning his armor of rust in anticipation of the coming battle, unable to sleep. He looked up as she entered.

"Alia, how did it go?"

"All of the city's siege weapons have been destroyed to the point of disrepair.

"Are you inj-?"

She shook her head. "I am fine, but Thitan's leg was broken by accident when one of the catapults exploded." Her form shifted into that of a large white cat, golden eyes glinting. _I am going to fetch Vea to heal him._

Alia slipped out into the late night darkness and went to the next tent which she knew to be Vea's. The girl seemed to be sleeping, but Alia's sensitive ears picked up the shift in her breathing and knew she was awake and waiting to see what would play out. As Alia had been walking noiselessly, she knew that she must have triggered wards of some sort.

_I'm not going to attack you._Alia stated matter-of-factly.

"Alia?" Vea asked with a yawn, sitting up and putting away her dagger that she had been waiting with. "How did it go? Where's Thitan?" Her final question held a touch of worry.

Alia walked to the door and looked back at the girl. _The mission was completed, but Thitan's leg was broken. It requires healing if he is to fight at dawn._

Vea followed the ghost-like figure of the werecat back to Roran's tent and went immediately to kneel beside her companion. Thitan raised his head and stared unblinkingly at her.

She took her leg gently in her hands and examined the break. Thitan hissed and pulled away involuntarily as she felt the break. "Hold still." She admonished quietly and he remained where he lay, watching her closely. "Waise hael." She spoke. The muscle torn by the shattered bone rippled as the fragments of the break reformed within the werecat's leg. Another hiss escaped the older werecat before the spell ended and he stood gingerly, limping several steps before testing the healed leg with more weight. Upon finding it painless, he purred and pushed his head against Vea's hand and she scratched his chin with a smile.

"I still might try for a few hours of sleep. See you in the morning."

She departed and the werecat followed her. Alia immediately sat and began to painstakingly clean all the blood and dirt from her sullied coat. Roran watched with slight amusement and then returned to his book. It was almost an hour before Alia glanced up.

_Aren't you going to sleep at all?_She questioned.

"No. Most likely not. I have always found that I cannot sleep the night before a battle. I wish I could but…"

Alia snorted. _Are you not a magician? Cast a spell to help you fall asleep._

He stared at her and then chuckled quietly. "I never even considered the possibility. I only just learned about magic and then I became a magician. Sometimes I still forget about it." He covered a yawn and went to lie on his bed.

"Slytha." Roran felt the odd sensation of a fog being put over his mind and drifter into sleep. She leapt onto his bed and curled up in a tiny ball at his side, quickly drifting into sleep.

Roran watched as the first rays of the sun became visible at the horizon. Glancing one last time that all his men were ready, Roran put his lips to a horn and blew, sending an echoing, almost mournful call over the land. As it died into silence a large ball of fire, a projectile coated with oil, soared toward the city and collided with a wall with a loud thud. A charred dent could be seen in the stone walls of the castle.

Another short burst of the horn and the second of the Varden's trebuchets with them began to fire at the city. The men rushed forward, the weapons sailing over head and into the city, as they prepared to attack the city. Vea sat beside him on her black mare, waiting as they rode near the front. It was likely that there would be some sort of magical defenses on the wall even if they could see the damage inflicted by the trebuchets.

As they neared the city, it was apparent that chaos reigned. Shouting could be heard even from outside the walls. Debris from the shattered catapults lay about the wall.

"Fire!" A voice yelled from atop the wall and a volley of arrows flew toward the Varden's men. They raised shields to protect themselves from the barrage, but Roran heard the yells and screams as some arrows found their mark. Gritting his teeth against the sounds of injured men, Roran looked to Vea.

"The wall. I am new to this. What kind of spells would be used? How powerful?"

Vea looked at the wall. "My magic is not extremely powerful and I rely much on the use of gems and potions to give me power, but I…" She looked at the wall once more. "I have a talent for sensing enchantments,_seeing_them in a way."

"What do you mean?" he asked curiously.

She thought for a moment and then touched Roran's hand, closing her eyes in concentration. "I can see your cousin has placed wards upon you, the evening before your departure though there are lingering ones that have yet to fade entirely. They were placed… a few days after Eragon's return?"

Roran nodded with an impressed look. "How?"

"I am not sure, but my blood is that of two spellcasters, one powerful. Magic is in my blood. At least that is Angela's speculation about it." They were nearer the walls and Vea frowned as the men on the edge of the wall were preparing what looked to be burning pitch to pour on the soldiers. "I would need to be touching the wall to sense it. I can tell there is magic, but nothing more. If you could insure my safety and keep them from pouring _that_on me I may be able to see what is on the walls."

Roran looked to his feet. "Alia, Thitan, I have no authority to command you, but your aid would be most useful in defending a portion of the wall for a small amount of time."

_We shall do as you ask._The tabby werecat spoke before he took off, Alia at his heels. Roran looked to Vea. "Follow me." Roran turned to his men. "Ralder! I want ten of your men to be given to me to guard us as we see what can be done about the walls.

The man nodded and immediately dispatched ten men to Roran. Roran turned and the men followed. There was a twenty foot gap between the men on the wall, and it seemed that there was a momentary pause in the fighting there as the men watched with wary and fear.

_It is clear, Roran. Come quickly before they decide to try again. Thitan managed to pour some of the pitch down on their men on the other side of the wall. We may be outnumbered._

Roran pushed the thought from his mind, though it worried him greatly, and rode to the wall. Vea followed and dismounted, walking to the wall. The men formed a guard around them and Roran cast the basic wards around Vea that Angela had taught him before he went off on the mission. Her comment that 'It wouldn't do to lose an apprentice after the countless hours wasted to instill even the most basic semblance of good sense and magic,' muttered under her breath brought a faint smile to his lips. It was as close to admitting she cared he would get from his teacher.

Taking a deep breath, he watched as the girl laid her palms flat on the stone wall. She flinched at first, and then seemed to become lost in her work. His worry faded somewhat as he became preoccupied with a few arrows hitting his wards as he waited for Vea to work. Why was it taking so long? One of his guards lined up a shot and took down the man who had been shooting at them.

With a shuddering breath, Vea's eyes opened. "I think I got the lay of it. It was difficult. I think this may have been an elven city at one point. There are many old enchantments lingering about the city. Should I attempt to remove the defenses? Normally this would be near impenetrable, but if I only focus on combating one particular spell, it should unravel."

Roran thought, lost by her explanations as he had no idea what magic _looked_like. "If you believe it is within your abilities, do so."

She nodded and closed her eyes again, beginning to whisper in the ancient language. Briefly, Roran wondered of her past again. Her spell was not that of a memorized spell, but one of her own creation. He only recognized a few words, but where had she learned enough to speak as she was? Angela perhaps. Or something more in her past.

His thoughts were cut short as a choked scream was torn from the throat of his second-in-command and she collapsed to the ground. An instant later, there was a loud noise as if from an explosion and a massive shockwave spread from the wall.

Roran collapsed in pain from a sudden headache and he put his hand to his head only to find out his nose was bleeding. His guards struggled to get to their feet. One lay unconscious.

Dazed, but recovering quickly, Roran healed his bleeding nose and went to Vea who was lying unconscious. He sat her against the wall and, in concern, transferred a bit of the energy in the ring Eragon had given to him into Vea. She stirred slightly and then her eyes opened.

"What happened?" she questioned quietly as Roran checked her for injuries.

"I was actually going to ask you that." He paused. "You have a concussion. You didn't hit your head, but you have one. Hold still a minute." He took her head in his hands and whispered a phrase, drawing again from the ring. "Better?" She nodded. "Now try to think. What happened?"

She was still groggy, but seemed to be trying to focus. "The spell. I undid it." She said, thinking. "It was easy… too easy. As soon as I removed it, I felt backlash." She frowned and then her eyes widened. "I cast another spell and pushed the force away from us, inside."

Roran was surprised. He immediately thought of Alia and Thitan at the top, and worry filled him. He had seen only a few soldiers on the wall since the recoil. The majority seemed to have been either injured or killed. He needed to communicate with her.

Roran took a deep breath and forced himself into the meditative state Angela had taught him. He concentrated on an image of Alia and then tried to force his mind outwards. Nothing happened. He cursed under his breath, repeating what Angela had taught him. He had approached Eragon, but his cousin had only said that he found the ability to communicate telepathically as soon as his hand touched the egg. Blasted riders. No help at all.

Roran felt the strange sensation of drifting in empty space and panicked before he realized with a bit of surprise that he had managed to do it correctly. He felt many presences around him. One brighter one, nearby, had to be Vea. Roran was about to end the fruitless search when he felt an even stranger mind than the ones he had been feeling before.

_Alia?_He questioned quietly.

_No fool. I am Thitan. What possessed you to try and contact someone in this matter in the middle of a battle? If an enemy magician felt you he could have crushed you in an instant. Now, why did you contact me in this manner two-leg?_

While Roran was not sure if he should be offended at being called a two-leg or not, he was properly chastised and knew Angela would practically be insisting that he be given a whipping to give him 'some good common sense' as she liked to call it.

_Thitan, is Alia okay?_

_She is unconscious. The blast hit her much harder than it hit me. I think she is coming round though. Yes. She is waking._He pulled away for a moment, and then touched Roran's mind again. _The damage inside the walls is extensive. If you break through soon, much bloodshed may be averted. I'll get Alia off the walls._

The dark-skinned boy that was Thitan appeared at the top of the wall with a white cat in his arms. Without pause, he leapt twenty feet to the ground to land on his feet. He winced slightly at the shock, but brought Alia over. Once assuring himself that she was uninjured and with Vea already mounting her horse, Roran got on Snowfire and went to his men who were mulling in confusion.

Roran made his voice louder with a simple spell Angela had taught him that affected not his body or voice, but the sound, amplifying and projecting it. He had only understood a portion of her explanation, but he could make it work.

"Men of the Varden. The wards on the walls have fallen. We attack now. Bring forward the battering rams. Trebuchets continue firing. We will take Tilgrim today."

The men began to cheer and his orders were followed immediately and the brief respite both sides had taken was over. Blood would be spilled. Vea rode Nightmare toward the thick stone gates that the battering ram was being positioned in front of. What he wouldn't give for one of the Varden's dragons right now… But there was no chance of that.

Alia was on her feet, though still a bit faint, and nudged Roran's leg. He glanced down. Alia sat. _They have barricaded the wall with metal beams. There is no chance at beating it in with our means. The ends of the beams are secured in reinforced tracks. But if you were to redirect to some thirty feet west where Vea removed the spells, the material is weakened and it opens to a street._

Roran thanked her and then commanded the change. Immediately the men obeyed. Surprisingly, the wall collapsed quickly, a cloud of dust rising from the ruins of the wall. From inside there was the metallic rustle of weapons being prepared.

"Attack!" It was a bad strategy and one that was sure to cost men, but there was little chance of widening the gap. The Varden's soldiers poured through the gap, forcing the others back. Roran winced at the level of destruction Vea had caused within the walls.

Much of their army had been just inside the walls, waiting for the Varden in case they managed to break through, but the shockwave had devastated them. Men lay dead or dying, blood streaming from their ears and noses, bodies ripped apart by the force. Roran felt ill, and he turned to look at his partner. Vea was staring in horror at what she had done. Hundreds were already dead.

"I did this." She whispered. Roran looked at her and then stopped, grabbing her arm. She looked at him. "I've never killed anyone before."

"Vea. Listen. We are in a war and you knew you would take a life. You helped the Varden. Before this, they outnumbered us. You gave us a fighting chance. Don't think about it right now." Roran raised his shield to deflect an arrow. "We have to fight."

She swallowed and then drew her weapons. She nodded to him and then they rode to join the men who were beginning to engage with the soldiers still capable of dealing blows.

Roran growled as a man lunged at Snowfire instead of attacking him and crushed his skull with a well placed crack with his hammer. It was chaos. Pure chaos as the men dashed around like ants, fighting over their mound.

A loud yell drew his attention to the northern front of the battle and Roran saw his men being slaughtered, collapsing one after another with no apparent wounds. "No." Roran swore and stared at the man standing inside the circle of bodies. It was a magician. He turned to ride toward him, but Vea shook her head.

"Has Angela trained you in this yet?"

"No, but-"

"I'll take care of him, but watch my back."

Roran nodded and they fought their way over. Vea stepped into the circle and the magician eyed her warily. "What, the Varden's standards are so low they send _girls_to fight?"

Vea glared and drew a knife from her belt, sending it flying toward the man in a smooth motion. It stopped short at a ward and fell to the ground. She threw another, launching an attack on the man's mind. Roran edged closer, but avoided catching the man's attention.

"Fool girl. The king himself blessed me with ability. You have no hope of defeating me." Roran saw a flash of pain and Vea dropped to a knee, a look of concentration on her face.

Roran slipped over to the man and took a swing with his hammer, stopping short at the wards, though he saw a flash of irritation. It was obvious the man was sparing all his concentration on the fight between himself and Vea. Roran took another swing and the werecats joined in, attacking at the wards.

Vea let out a pained gasp and Roran saw that she had lost ground. The man was grinning. "Oh. I can honestly say I wasn't expecting _that._Do your friends know who it is they are protecting?"

"Get. Out. Of . My. Mind." She hissed through clenched teeth, struggling against him. Roran continued to attack.

"Stop that." The man said suddenly, swiping with a dagger at Roran. They could be near the end of his wards. Roran ducked and continued. Vea was on her feet again, slowly advancing.

"You were right in that I couldn't defeat you alone, but I am not alone." A hint of fear came into his eyes.

"The king said-"

"The king is a liar." Vea spat.

The man laughed coldly. "The king is your father."

Roran froze, but Vea's expression only hardened and she pulled her sword from its sheath and whispered a word in the ancient language. The blade crackled with red sparks of energy.

"Die." She growled and lunged forward, the sword managing to break through his wards and pierce his heart. The man crumpled. Vea pulled out her sword, her face pale.

She looked to Roran, her expression pleading.

"Is it true?" he asked.

She bowed her head. "Roran-"

His expression was conflicted as he stared at the child of the enemy. His already weak trust in her was almost shattered.

Vea turned. "Wait." She reached out her mind to encompass the men the magician had been guarding and whispered a word. The men collapsed limply to the ground and her face lost its color. Vea turned to Roran, holding her head high. "I will explain later, but now there is no time. Will you trust me?"

Roran looked at her. At the beginning of the mission his trust had been a shallow thing, but he had come to trust her more. At least he did not believe she was planning to knife his back. "Yes."

She gave him a small smile and they split. Roran walked toward a group of soldiers and then stopped, having an idea. He cast the spell to amplify his voice. "Soldiers of Tilgrim. You are defeated. You are outnumbered and dying quickly. My name is Roran Stronghammer, slayer of Ra'zaac and the cousin of Eragon Shadeslayer. The Varden had no desire to see your deaths. Lay down your weapons and surrender and no one more will suffer and die. Your leader will be treated with the respect given his rank. Surrender. Surrender or die."

His voice faded away and everyone had stopped to look at him. Then, a man that had been fighting one of the Varden knelt and placed his sword on the ground before him, putting his hands on his head. As soon as the first man had surrendered, it seemed to set off a chain reaction and all of the men slowly got to their knees and surrendered.

The Varden rushed about and began to bund men and removed their weapons. Alia trotted up to Roran and Vea joined him with Thitan.

"I wouldn't have thought they would surrender."

Roran looked at her. "When one is faced with dying for a cause one doesn't agree with or living to see another day, the choice is rather simple. Come. We must find Lord Vern."

With a group of fifty men, Roran went up to the castle in the center where the gates were opened immediately for them They marched, a surrendered guard leading the way, up to the second floor. A large throne room. Inside sat the lord and his wife and child with grim, dreading expressions on their faces. The woman began to weep and hugged her young son against her.

Roran looked at them and then at the Lord. "Tilgrim has fallen to the Varden. Will you surrender peacefully?"

The lord looked at the men and then his family. "Will my family be cared for?"

"They will not be harmed."

"Then I surrender." The blond haired man bowed his head and guards bound him.

A victorious smile spread across Roran's face.

Tilgrim had fallen.

**Thanks for everyone who has read and reviewed my story. Please leave your thoughts about this in a review. Thanks.**


	40. A Break from the War

**A.N. Ready. Set. GO!**

"Líril." The king's voice spoke softly as he examined the small shade before him. "You are ready."

A sarcastic yet triumphant sneer pulled at the corner of her mouth and she raised her chin, looking the king in the eye. Her eyes had become a deeper red since she first became a slave. The bright crimson had deeped to the color of freshly spilled blood and her lips matched the color near perfectly. High sharp cheekbones had risen from where there had been less pronounced features. The soft face she had worn previously had been molded into a dangerous but beautiful visage.

Murtagh watched from where he knelt, trying to keep his revulsion and fear of the shade from surfacing, but from the annoyed but amused expression on the king's face, he was failing.

"Murtagh, rise."

He stood, ignoring the brief flash of pain for having been whipped for speaking out against one of the king's men Murtagh kept his eyes fixed on the king's feet, trying to avoid conflict.

"Come here." Murtagh came forward to stand before the king. "You disobeyed yesterday."

'Yes, master." Murtagh said meekly when the king looked at him. "I was wrong." Murtagh could not lie, but he had learnt to bend the truth. Was it wrong to speak against the king? He didn't believe so, but to let the king hear was wrong. It had been foolish.

The king was watching him closely. "I am sending you to Dras Leona. The Varden will not remain stationary for much longer, and I intend to crush them there. Perhaps I _shall _let Líril lead as you have been disobedient."

Líril glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes, her small mouth forming a mocking smile. Murtagh tried to keep his shoulders from shaking at the thought. It was bad enough having to be in the same room with her, for her to have authority over him…

"But perhaps you would obey if that was a threat."

"I will obey, master. Let me lead."

"Beg."

It was a command. Murtagh fought it, but the power the king held over him made resisting futile. He was on his knees, his forehead against the floor. "Master, let me lead, please. I will obey, but I need to lead." Murtagh bit his tongue, stemming the unwilling words.

Galbatorix laughed at the angry flush that colored his face as he got to his feet. "Very well, Murtagh, but one step out of line and I will leave you to her mercy."

"Yes, master."

Galbatorix shook his head. "If only I had gotten Eragon at Farthen Dur instead of you. He is a born fighter. You cannot even manage to keep your dragon with you."

Murtagh waited for dismissal, acting as if he was not hearing the king.

The king began to dictate orders to the two of them and then nodded to himself when he had covered the possibilities. "You leave at once. The horses are loaded and saddled. The forces there should be plenty enough. Go. Now. And remember that under no conditions are Eragon or Saphira to be killed. Try to avoid killing the new ones if it comes to that, but if it becomes necessary than do as you wish. Besides those, take as many lives as you can, the higher ranking, the better. If there is the slightest chance, take out Nasuada. She is much too efficient a leader. Murtagh, you are not to attempt to communicate with thorn in any way. If he comes near you, attack him, injure him, but do not kill."

Murtagh turned and walked to the door, exiting without looking back as they walked to the front gates of the castle. Two black horses stood, their reins held by grim looking stablemasters. Murtagh took the larger, which bore a white mark in the shape of an oval on its forehead. He felt out the horse's mind with his own and felt the tweaks the king had caused within the horse. It was stronger and faster, but it was also afraid on nothing. It would bear him to Dras Leona twice as fast as if he rode a normal horse.

As they left the capital, Murtagh felt a growing sense of dread. Here he rode to fight the enemy. His enemy? His friends? No, he no longer belonged anywhere. The thud of large hooves hitting the cobblestone path alerted him before the shade, Líril, rode up beside him and they went to wait for battle.

* * *

><p>Roran rode through the city after having reported to Nasuada the success of their mission. The city had been left under the command of a competent man. Surprisingly, there had been little unrest and many of the citizens were found to be sympathetic to the Varden's cause. After learning that their leader was not to be harmed, they had subsided quickly. He saw a familiar figure in the street.<p>

"Eragon!"

His cousin spun at the sound of his name being called and then grinned. "Good to see you well." His cousin grinned. "Nasuada told me it was a success."

Roran looked up at the sky to watch the three dragons that were circling high in the air as Eragon fell into step with Snowfire. He watched as the small green dragon attacked the blue with a steep dive from above but was kicked away when the sapphire rolled. He was beaten easily. The blue then had the green at her mercy before he could understand what had happened. Saphira battered at Wryda, trying to force him into submission when the ruby-scaled one drifted up from behind, forcing Saphira to release the young one to defend herself.

"Why are you not up there?" Roran asked his cousin, who was watching the dragons as well.

Eragon sighed and rubbed the still inflamed skin of his arm around the partially healed wound. "I cannot risk injury given as I cannot be healed with magic for something such as sparring as the dragons are. Besides, it is Wyrda who needs the training the most. What they are currently doing is beneath my skill level. Saphira and I were well trained and she is a natural in the air."

He glanced at Roran. "Where is Alia?"

Roran shrugged. "I don't presume to understand her. She left some minutes ago without explanation and I didn't bother to ask. What has been going on within the Varden during my absence?"

Eragon looked back towards the sky, but the dragons had disappeared above the clouds. "The urgals are becoming restless. For the most part, they are a nomadic people, and their instinct is to fight. Being cooped up within the city as such, there has been a bit of tension. Despite that, it has been rather quiet, but for that it has been announced that the Varden will march on Dras Leona. It is yet winter, but the cold has lessened. Also, if we wait much longer, we will lose many more men to lack of food than to the cold. Even more, we lose more and more men daily. The Empire is already larger than us. To lose many more would leave us too susceptible."

Roran nodded and they walked toward where the villagers of Caravahall had been placed.

"Eragon, thank goodness." Hors said, running up to him. His face was pale. "Eragon you must help."

Eragon turned. "What is it? What is wrong?"

"it's Elain. She went into labor, but it isn't going well. Come." He began to walk away and Eragon followed. "Gertrude says it does not look good. We could very well lose them both."

Eragon looked at his cousin again. "Roran, find Angela and bring her here. I know nothing of birthing, but she will. Run."

Spurring Snowfire into a gallop, Roran weaved his way through the people to find his teacher.

Eragon caught up with the worried smith. "Bring me to her, I will be able to help a bit until Angela arrives.

Horst guided Eragon into a small room. His small wife lay on her back on the bed, her breathing labored and looking as if she were a corpse. Gertrude watched helplessly. "I'm losing her." She told them quietly.

Eragon stepped forward. As the woman screamed in pain at a strong contraction, he winced at the way it grated on his enhanced hearing, but knelt beside the bed, placing a cool hand on her brow and slipping into her mind, almost swearing as he saw that Gertrude was right. Elain was fading.

Eragon began to steadily feed her energy, taking her hand to create an easy path for the flow as he kept her from slipping into nothingness. He could feel her exhaustion and the terrible pain she was in. she could no longer bring herself to care. Eragon could feel the undeveloped mind of the innocent child still within her womb and became determined. In this time, torn apart by war, with soldiers dying daily and people sacrificing their lives for what they believed, this child _would _be born. Elain _would _live.

Eragon did something that when Oromis had taught, he had claimed he would never do. Eragon manipulated Elain's undefended mind and implanted foreign thoughts and feelings that she would believe were her own. He tried to giver her the hope and determination she lacked.

Pulling away from her mind, he watched as her eyes fluttered open to fix on his face. The door opened and Angela entered. She glanced quickly at Eragon and then turned her attention to the woman in labor as she cried out again. Her eyes widened and flicked back to Eragon. "You…" The woman screamed, her time close. "I'll be discussing your actions with you later. You have done all you could. Please leave, Eragon."

He nodded and went outside to the streets. It was a long while before Angela returned and eragon was resting against the warm hide of Saphira. He stood. "Are they…"

The herbalist smiled. "The child is healthy and strong. The mother sleeps." She met his eyes. "The father asked if I would find you and send you in. he wished to thank you. No doubt if you hadn't been there when you were that she would have died."

Eragon walked to the room to see Elain was indeed asleep, hidden under a warm fur blanket, looking ill but alive.

"Eragon." Horst spoke quietly so as not to wake his wife or the newborn infant in his arms. Eragon walked over and the baby was placed in his arms lightly. Eragon sat on a wooden chair and looked into its –her- face with a smile. She was so small, and she looked perfectly peaceful in his arms. As he gazed at her, he couldn't help his mind wandering and imagining how it would feel to hold his own child, the flesh of his flesh.

"She is beautiful."

"We wanted to honor you with her name." Eragon looked up in surprise and Horst smiled kindly. "Do not seem too surprised. You a wonderful young man. Garrow would be proud of who you have become, and whoever you father was as well."

Eragon looked up. "Brom. My father was brom. He was a rider in his time as well."

Horst looked surpised and then chuckled quietly. "You do share some of the mannerisms, but I thin physically you look a lot like your mother. In fact, we are naming her after your mother. Selena."

Eragon's eyes were slightly moist as he held the child.

"Will you bless her?"

Eragon froze and then nodded, forming the blessing in his head before he spoke. "Atra esterní ono thelduin. Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr. Un du evarínya ono varda. Atra gülai un ilian tauthr ono un atra ono waíse sköliro frá rauthr."***

The newborn stirred but did not wake. Eragon handed her back to her father and stood. "I must go. With the Varden preparing to leave, there is much for me to do."

"I understand. It gladdens me that you spend as much time as you do with the village."

Eragon went to where Arya had called him and they contacted the elven queen, informing her of their plans. Two days later, the varden marched.

***May good fortune rule over you. Peace live in your heart. And the stars watch over you. May luck and happiness follow you and may you be shielded from misfortune.

**So what did y'all think? Leave lots of reviews and the next chapter will be the battle for Dras Leona, not to mention a long one. So click the button and tell me what you think?**


	41. Battle of Dras Leona

**A.N. I'll think you'll like this. Long chapter too. And Merry Christmas!**

Eragon POV

The spire of Helgrind rose through the fog, a foreboding and grim sight that weighed on the minds of the Varden. This morning, they would attack. The elves were nearing their position on the north, and as soon as they contacted, the battle would begin.

Anxious in the wait before the battle, Eragon was flying on Saphira, high above the earth where no one could bother them. The cool wind gusted at them and buffeted, but Saphira was a master of flight. She merely tilted her wings and a particularly strong updraft merely lifted them higher. This time, there was no attempt at stealth. The soldiers of Dras Leona knew exactly where the Varden lay in waiting. It would be a true battle, like the Battle of the Burning Plains.

And this battle he could not rely on the elves quick healing if he sustained an injury. That was the main reason why Thorn and Vanir were on the front lines. He was ordered to act as a figurehead and fight where he was safe, not take unnecessary risks, and to only risk his safety if the fate of the Varden rested in his decision. But surprisingly, he found he preferred being on the front lines. Being in the back he knew that others had taken his place. Men would die to keep him safer. But at least one benefit came from it. He could keep an eye on Wyrda and Arya. They too would join in the battle, but, like him, they were to be sheltered from the thick.

_Eragon. Come down._Arya's voice called him back to the situation at hand and he asked Saphira to descend. _My mother has contacted._ Saphira increased the angle of her descent and quickly made her way to where the leaders were gathered. As he dismounted and walked over, he realized how strange a group he belonged to. There were humans, of course, but there were also Arya, Vanir, and the other elves that were with the Varden. Also represented were the dwarves, Orik standing amongst his guards with a calm expression of determination and resolve. Nar Garzhvog acknowledged his presence with a sharp nod. Even the werecats were represented, their king and queen waiting. Alia had walked over to him as soon as he had landed. And last, there were the dragons. The three magnificent beasts gleamed in the morning light, magnified off the white snow. Yes, they were a strange bunch indeed.

"Atra esterní ono thelduin, Queen Islanzadí." He spoke respectfully, raising two fingers to his lips.

"Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr." She responded, looking serene, but Eragon could read concern in her eyes.

Nasuada nodded, the ceremony complete, and then spoke to the queen. "Are the elves in position?"

"At the moment, we are about ten miles distant, but we will be there very soon. I would attack now, before we arrive. They might not yet know of our proximity, and if their forces all move to block yours, the elves could slip in easily."

Nasuada nodded. "I thought the same." She looked away from the mirror toward the city. "Unfortunately, the closest spy we had to the king was captured and is likely dead by now, as you know, but I believe there is a good chance of Murtagh being at this battle."

"You are positive his dragon will not join Murtagh if he appears? That he will not be coerced by the traitor?"

A deep growl rippled from Thorn's throat and Vanir laid a hand on his neck to calm him. Eragon stepped closer to the mirror. "Your majesty, do not make the mistake of offending a dragon. Thorn fights for the Varden. If faced with his rider, which hopefully will not happen, he will remain fighting for the Varden. This he has sworn." Thorn dipped his head to affirm Eragon's statement, but a growl still lingered in his throat.

"I apologize." She directed her words to the dragon. "I meant no offense, but the success of this battle is of great consequence and I needed to be reassured." The queen nodded once. "It is time, I think, to begin. Arya."

The elven princess stepped forward close to the mirror as everyone dispersed. "Yes, mother?" She asked, too quietly for the others around her to catch the words.

"Stay safe."

Arya gave a faint smile. "We are in a war, mother. But I will do my best. Goodbye, I must check the wards on Wyrda once more before the battle."

"Of course. Your dragon is first priority. Atra u evarínya ono varda." The mirror only then reflected her image. Staring at it for a second, Arya went over to Wyrda and frantically began to test his defenses. Eragon saw the concern for her young dragon on her face and walked over.

"It is true that you have been studying magic for longer than I have, and that you have more experience, but if you would like, I will look over his wards for you."

She relaxed slightly. "Please." She said, stepping back.

Eragon went to stand beside Wyrda. He was quivering in anticipation of the battle. Eragon felt for him. He had been extremely nervous going into his first battle. He regretted that Wyrda would be forced to lose his innocence so young, but in a war there was naught to be done about it. Eragon touched his snout lightly.

"Trust your rider to defend you and protect you. In the same way, defend and protect Arya. Let your minds join completely and few will stand even the slightest chance against you. "The dragon seemed to relax slightly and Eragon reached out with his mind, whispering the Name as he determined what protections Arya had set around him. It seemed flawless. Likely she had spent hours, if not days, thinking of which protections to place on the partner-of-her-life. He considered the dragon and then created a new ward after a moment's thought.

Arya looked at him intently. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing" Eragon said, running his hand down the dragon's scales. "You know that Wyrda is yet to master the art of defending his mind and has barely begun to learn how to attack with his mind." Arya nodded. "It is a ward of my own invention. In a way, I helped hide his mind. Any who do not know the feel of his mind will find it difficult to sense his presence. I know not the spell Galbatorix has discovered that hides one's mind completely, but this I have learned. Unfortunately, it makes it as difficult to attack with your mind, but with Wyrda it will not matter."

Arya smiled slightly. "Thank you, Eragon. You have grown much from the bumbling child you were in Farthen Dur."

Eragon raised his eyebrows, fighting back a chuckle at her words. "I suppose I have at that. Brom had attempted to keep me out of politics for as long as he could. Now I see why. In less than six months, I managed to become a vassal of the Varden's leader, become a sworn member of a dwarven clan, practically be transformed into an elf, and gain a werecat as a companion, at the king's insistence."

She smiled. "But you have done well."

A horn sounded close to the city and the men began to move. Eragon paused and then met her eyes seriously. "Please do your best to keep yourself out of harm. Be careful?"

She nodded. "And the same goes for you."

As they turned to mount their dragons, Eragon paused. "Arya." she stopped and looked at him. He took her in his arms and hugged her. As they separated, on an impulsive urge, Eragon leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. "I love you, Arya. Never forget it."

As Saphira prepared to take off, he stole a glance at Arya, slightly embarrassed, but not regretful of his action. Arya was sitting on her dragon with a puzzled expression, touching her lips, lost deep in thought, but as the horn sounded once more and they took to the air, Arya seemed to push it from her mind, only turning briefly to give Eragon a small smile. Returning it, he flew toward the battle.

* * *

><p>Thorn POV<p>

The second horn rang through the air and Thorn released an earsplitting roar, announcing his presence to the men fighting. It was time to fight, time to earn revenge on those who had made him a slave from his hatching. Today he would taste blood. The elf on his back too was out for blood, his motives different, but nonetheless strong. The elf's parents and an uncle had been killed by Galbatorix in the first Rider War, leaving Vanir nearly alone in the world.

_Thorn. We must open the gates for them, that is our duty._

Thorn snarled an agreement and launched himself toward the front and up to the gates without hesitation. Immediately arrows began to whiz toward him, but he trusted the one on his back. It was not his rider, but Vanir would not allow him to get hurt. Indeed, the elf was blocking one arrow after another while his wards deflected the rest.

Thorn butted the portcullis with his head and was unsurprised to discover that the entrance was protected by means of magic. He snorted, a short burst of flame searing the door before he rammed it again. _Can you open them?_He asked the elf on his back.

_The energy has to come from somewhere. How long can you keep up your fire?_

Thorn began to breathe fire on the wall. _A minute at the most. Saphira can do longer, but she is also older, even if I'm still bigger._

_Keep it up._The flame bathed the thick wooden doors of the entrance until, suddenly, it caught fire. Knowing the wards were down, Thorn warned Vanir as he rammed against it once more with all his weight. And with a loud crack, the burning doors burst inward.

A sea of steel garbed soldiers flooded the entrance in the wake of the ruby dragon as they forged their way inside the walls. Unlike the encampment, where the men always looked at him with distrust or caution, all that was put aside as the battle began. They fought at his side without question.

As the line of enemy warriors approached them, Thorn release a jet of flame, bathing the men in a charring inferno. Only the smoldering remains of eight soldiers showed that they had indeed been there only seconds earlier.

Wide-eyed at the display, the Varden's men involuntarily stepped away, giving Thorn a slightly larger berth as he continued to fight, but it was nothing compared to how the enemy responded. Even among the most war-hardened veterans, fear stood out clearly in their eyes and they backed away when Thorn neared only to be pushed forward gain by the mass of men behind them.

_The elves are here. They have just stormed the northern gates._Eragon's voice called out before fading back into the distance. By now, Eragon and Arya would probably be fighting as well on a different front.

An almost mocking growl came from deep in Thorn's throat and he lunged forward, catching a man in his jaws and crushing the life from his body before tossing the mangled body back at the terrified soldiers.

_Thorn, what are you doing?_Vanir asked, looking sickened at the dragon's ferocious display.

Thorn growled, though when he spoke, a sort of macabre amusement was in his voice. _I'm trying to intimidate them. Do you think it's working?_

Vanir scanned the soldiers before them as he continued to fight before laughing, aware that his laughter added to it all as the men they fought had no way to know that the elf was laughing at the dragon's sarcastic comment rather than the field of death on which he stood.

_I rather think you have succeeded there. Come on, let us desist this time wasting and fight._

In response, Thorn let out a roar and leapt into the midst of the soldiers. And so they fought.

* * *

><p>Arya POV<p>

Wyrda, instructed by his rider, took to the air and flew away from the battle, leaving Eragon and the eleven elven spellcasters to fight by themselves for a bit. Wyrda was trembling terribly and his eyes were slightly panicked. In his state, it was more likely he would be injured that do anything that would help the Varden.

And Arya knew what had brought this upon him too. It was no mystery; the instant that Wyrda had killed a man with, breaking his neck with a fierce shake of his head, Wyrda had begun to react.

She slid to the ground and walked in front of her dragon, pulling his head against her chest, cradling it as if he were a child. _No._ She thought. He is a child. There was pain in his eyes, pain deep enough that she had to close her own eyes, unable to withstand his tortured stare.

_How are you, Wyrda?_She asked softly, stroking the line of his jawbone.

He pushed his head harder against her, forcing her back a step with his strength. _I am weak._He spoke in a defeated voice. _Saphira and thorn don't have this problem and they both fought younger than I am._

Arya sighed, tightening her arms around Wyrda's head. _You're not weak._She spoke, attempting to soothe the young dragon's mind with hers, sharing the thoughts that the dragon had been hiding from her. She felt the bloodlust he had felt as he lunged for the man and how much it had scared him. But that was not all; she also felt his pleasure at the taste of the irony blood that ran down his throat.

Feeling his jumping heartbeat even after minutes had passed, Arya continued to speak, trying to calm him. _Wyrda, you feel as any dragon would feel. There is nothing wrong about it. It is only natural._

_Promise?_The dragon's question came out plaintive and no louder than a whisper.

_I promise._

Suddenly a call from the battle reminded Arya that not all was as calm as where her and Wyrda stood. _Arya?_Eragon's voice came from the city. _Are you alright? Is Wyrda? Where are you?_

Wyrda pulled his head away from Arya and looked her in the eyes. _I'm ready._ His voice still trembled slightly, but there was resolve in his eyes and she could tell he was determined.

She smiled at him. _Just remember that we fight to prevent the suffering Galbatorix is causing and will cause if he is not stopped. There is a reason that we fight._She sought out Eragon's mind to respond. _We are both alright. We're on our way back now._

A short flight brought the pair to the market square to land next to Saphira as she wreaked havoc on the enemy troops. A shallow gash on her flank showed that she had been marked at least once. The sleeve of Eragon's tunic was soaked through with blood and he had switched his sword to his left hand. They fought with expressions of indifference. In the thrill of the battle, the individual lives taken and the soldiers struck down did not last more than a second in the mighty warriors' minds.

Saphira roared a greeting to the young emerald dragon as he joined her in the fray. Arya leapt to the ground to join Eragon on the ground. He acknowledged her with a grim smile. Drawing his bloody sword from yet another adversary's chest, Eragon turned to Arya. "I haven't seen any sign of Murtagh anywhere. It is beginning to make me nervous. Neither the elves to the northern end of the city nor Thorn and Vanir have seen him, yet we are almost positive he is here somewhere. Not even Angela has any idea where he is."

She nodded, too focused to respond in any other way as she blocked a vicious swing of a blade at her neck. Behind her, she felt a rush of emotion as Wyrda dispatched several men. Blodhgarm and the other eleven spellcasters continued to fight alongside them, fighting without reserve as they danced in and out of the enemy lines, decimating their numbers.

"Fall back! Fall back!" A man called over the soldiers and they retreated down the streets, too narrow for Saphira to follow and too dangerous for Wyrda in his inexperience to continue fighting in the narrow streets.

As the market square was abandoned by the men of Dras Leona, Arya walked over to Eragon. As the elves stood guard, she gently took his right wrist in her hands and pulled away his sleeve from his arm. A deep cut had been carved into his arm. Arya touched it and then tore a strip from the cleanest part of her clothes to wrap it tightly.

"I wish we could heal you. I don't like leaving you injured like this." She tied it off. "Can you use it?"

Eragon bent his arm and winced. "Not really."

For a minute they stood there, looking at the other.

_Eragon!_A voice called desperately.

* * *

><p>Vea watched in horror as the sword slipped through Nasuada's wards and sank deep into her stomach. Nasuada fell to her knees, clutching at her stomach as she waited with pain filled eyes for the final strike coming to behead her. Death would be a welcome friend. No! She had left too much unfinished. She stared up at the raised sword, her vision blurring and fading into black.<p>

"No!" Another sword stopped the soldier's weapon not a foot from Nasuada's neck. The Varden had been pushed away from their fallen leader and Vea was the only one left fighting to keep back the enemy from their dying leader. The man who had struck down Nasuada laughed at her as he reached again for Nasuada. His speed was unnatural yet he looked to be human. Sharp pain filled her as his sword cut clean through her wards and piercer her thigh.

_Eragon!_It was a desperate hope, but she cast it toward the rider and dragon. His mental barriers slammed up, but then hesitantly lowered. She pressed in. _Help._ She projected an image of herself and the soldiers, followed by that of Nasuada on the edge of passing out from blood loss and pain.

A second later a roar was heard and there was a blue shape rushing toward them from the sky. The dragon dove sharply and landed heavily amidst the enemy soldiers, crushing not a few as she breather fire on the others surrounding them.

"Him!" Vea shouted, gesturing at the man she was trying to hold off. She had run him through, but along with his strength, he seemed to be one of the painless ones.

Eragon leapt to the ground and engaged the man in a fight. Surprise and then determination showed in his eyes when he realized what he was facing. With a sudden smile, he looked at Vea. _Kill him when he is focused on me. Behead him._Saphira's tail swept through near tem men, leaving them injured or dead on the ground. Vea's blade rose, the man completely oblivious in his confidence, his grin not wavering until Vea's sword had cut clean through his neck. After that, the line broke and retreated.

He knelt beside Nasuada and took her face in his hands, lifting her chin to look her in the face. "Stay with me." He said quietly before he placed his hand over her wound and whispered a quick spell to assess the damage. He swore and then began to softly sing, ignoring the din of the surrounding battle as he attempted to weave her stomach back together before she bled out.

"Charge!" Reinforcements had come and were pushing forward in a circle surrounding them. Eragon gathered Nasuada gently in his arms, her head lolling against his shoulder and ran to Saphira.

"Vea. Come on. Now!" She ducked the blade of her current opponent and sprang up behind him on Saphira as she leapt into the air and spread her wings, taking off.

They landed at the Varden's encampment and Eragon carried Nasuada to her personal tent and set her on her bed.

A low groan escaped through her lips as he set her down. Eragon flinched. Was she really still awake with the pain she must be in? She was. Eragon put her to sleep and began to sing, continuing to heal her injury, relying on the Belt of Beloth the Wise to provide enough energy. Vea sat back, watching, and then she got a clean cloth and began to wipe the blood from the Varden's leader's hands and stomach.

Arya's voice distracted him and he cut off the spell. _Eragon! Murtagh is here. And a shade. I need help!_Her voice broke off suddenly.

"Barzul." Eragon stood, a pit of worry forming in his stomach. "Vea, do you know anything of healing?"

She nodded. "Angela has been teaching me for several months now. I am not an expert, but I am competent."

At the edge of the tent, Eragon paused. "Take care of her. I must go." _I have to fight a shade._He thought with dread. Eragon leapt onto Saphira and she took off without pause. Strong gusts of wind buffeted the tents closest to them as she took to the air.

They landed in the market square where Arya and Wyrda still were. There were many more bodies than there had been previously, and blood stained Wyrda's hide from a recently healed wound, but they looked fine. Relief washed over Arya's features as Eragon stepped beside her.

Saphira raised her head suddenly and Eragon heard the same thing that she had. Thorn and Vanir were losing ground. Angela and Roran fought beside them, but the numbers were dropping fast. They would not last much longer.

_Go, Saphira. I will be fine._

A worried whine came from her throat and he laid a hand on her side. _Eragon. A shade._

_Go. They need your help. I have Arya and Wyrda here._

Saphira gave him a long, sad look and then raised her wings. _But if you get injured, I will tear you to shreds. I love you, Little One._

_And you as well. Now fly._She disappeared to the south.

Eragon turned to Arya. "Thorn and Vanir needed aid or they would have fallen. Saphira went to help. And Nasuada was badly injured, but she is now back at the camp." He paused. "Where are they?" He asked, confused.

"I'm not sure. They were just here."

"Greetings, Eragon." He turned and saw the queen whom he had apparently missed in his assessment of the clearing. There were the bodies of seven dead elves, two of which he recognized as his guards and the others he assumed to be Islanzadí's guards.

He smiled at her, holding his sword ready. "Where are the elves?"

She frowned. "The shade did a number to our people. I know not where she went. My people are trying to get here." She glanced at her daughter. "Go and help Arya, I will keep a look out."

Help Arya? He wondered. And then he saw her worried expression as she examined her dragon's foreleg closely. He seemed to be favoring it slightly. Eragon went over and saw the deep gash in his leg, slicing through muscle.

Arya looked up at him. "The shade did it. I… I have never studied how a dragon's body is designed and I would need to repair the muscle if he is to keep use of the leg. He-"

Eragon had nodded to her and was probing the wound with magic, testing for where the weaknesses. "It is not as bad as it looks." He assured the worried rider as he cast a few spells, restoring the dragon's leg to health.

"Jierda!" Arya yelled suddenly and Eragon leapt up, looking for the danger. He followed her eyes to a tower on the edge of the square, directly above where Arya had run to.

The magician's magic exploded inward upon himself as she broke the spell he had begun to cast, killing the spellcaster instantly and sending massive cracks spider webbing down the building. Eragon nodded to Arya and then dispatched another soldier who advanced running out of an alley at him with a drawn spear. The lull had ended. The battle had resumed.

Eragon felt an update from Saphira on her side of the battle with Thorn and Vanir. The image of a soldier being ripped to shreds within her claws was more than was necessary, but it conveyed her point.

Eragon glanced over at Wyrda, sniffing at the air and then suddenly the young dragon went rigid went rigid.

A sharp intake of breath caused Eragon to spin, Brisingr in hand. The sight that met his eyes caused his heart to leap in his chest. A black knife was held against the queen's porcelain skin, a small trickle of blood running down her neck.

At the sight of the attacker, Eragon felt hopelessness rise. A tall woman with fair skin and long crimson hair was holding the queen against her, fingernails digging into the queen's flesh.

Arya stepped forward but paused at the growl of the shade. "You would do best not to move, elf." She hissed and Arya froze. "You move an inch," her eyes raked over Eragon, Saphira, and Wyrda as well, "any of you and she dies. No games."

Eragon looked at Arya's tormented expression. "What do you want with us?"

"All three of you, and the other dragons, will accompany me to Uru'baen." She laughed, a lilting and innocent laugh that turned his stomach coming from one so evil.

"We will not." Arya said defiantly and her mother closed her eyes.

Almost immediately, Eragon found his mind trapped in an iron snare. He was unable to free himself or attack, but remained standing there expending all his efforts to repel the shade.

Finally, Eragon asserted a bit of control. "How do you plan to get us there?" he asked through clenched teeth.

A figure stepped through the shadows into the sunlight. "That would be my job." A dejected voice answered.

"Murtagh." He hissed. The confused emotions surrounding his brother distracted Eragon and the shade gained ground.

"Stop." Murtagh commanded and the shade rolled her shoulder, bearing pointed teeth in a feral smile. "They will not move with the queen in danger." Murtagh was looking at the shade with a mixture of hate and revulsion, but then looked over Eragon, Arya, and Wyrda. "Tell Saphira to stay away for now or the queen dies."

_Stay away._Eragon told her, projecting the images. Saphira sent him a worried thought and then presented an image of her tearing the shade in half, but Eragon responded with an image of the queen dead. He felt a deep anxiety from her, but also a willingness to obey. Saphira continued to fight.

_Take care, Little One._She pulled away from his mind.

Suddenly, the damaged wall gave, rushing toward Arya, like an avalanche, who stood frozen as the shade grinned and pulled the blade tighter against the queen's neck. Eragon knew her wards were gone. Dread settled and she prepared a spell, but he was going to be too late. Even as the large stones reached Arya, the green dragon sprang toward the elf, knocking her to the ground and the rubble covered them both.

As the dragon leapt, the knife slid across the queen's neck and her lifeblood drained upon the earth as the shade released her. Eragon clenched his teeth as he saw the life leave the queens eyes. She was gone.

The shade only smiled wider. Without the hostage, Eragon drew Brisingr and rushed the shade, tripping as she renewed attacking his mind with increased vigor, drawing a thin sword with ancient glyphs carved down the entire blade.

Murtagh stood back, seemingly conflicted as he watched the duel, his hand halfway to his sword. The shade whipped her sword, cutting Eragon once on the cheek and once across the chest and he leapt back, wincing. He had underestimated her. She was faster than either of the shades he had fought with. She lacked their power, but she was fast. Eragon glanced toward the pile of rubble, unable to search with his mind to see if either had survived.

Eragon glanced up to see Murtagh with Zar'roc pointing at the ground as he trembled, looking at Eragon. A sincere apology in his eyes, he raised the sword and advanced.

Knowing he was about to lose, Eragon had an idea. He called the Name and bent magic to his will, the shackles of Murtagh's name falling from him. His brother stumbled, stunned, and unknowing of what occurred, but he stopped advancing, a confused frown on his face.

Eragon said the Name again, his eyes fixed upon the still attacking shade. She ignored him and continued to attack, landing another attack on his right arm. Eragon winced but refused to end his spell. The shade stumbled. She had begun to glow, colored lights spinning around her.

Eragon redoubled his efforts. It would work. It had to. He was suddenly glad he had saved the use of his eldunari, knowing he would meet Murtagh. He was even more thankful as he faced the shade.

Eragon began to chant faster, pushing all the magic and energy he could into the spell. A pained expression came over the shade's face and she dropped to a knee, her sword forgotten at her side.

Suddenly, with a crack like thunder, the light surrounding her burst and the spirits flew in all directions.

Eragon knew they were dangerous. In the Ancient Language, he spoke. "Go, spirits go away from here. You are free." A tense moment passed before they scattered, rising up into the air.

The one who had been a shade was now lying on the ground, her face pale and her eyes fading from the crimson to their natural color. As he watched, warily holding his sword in front of him, she began to scream.

"Slytha." He said and her eyes closed. He looked up. "Murtagh, I released you. You are no longer a name slave."

His brother looked up, his eyes widening, and then he rushed over. "The shade?"

Eragon gave a weak smile. "I didn't know if it would work, but I was in no shape to face a shade. The spirits are gone. She is who she was before."

_Saphira!_He called. _Can you come?_

_I'm already on my way._Was her response as a blue shape dove out of the clouds and landed in the clearing. She sniffed Murtagh suspiciously.

Danger passed, as the soldiers had fled at the site of the shade's fate, Eragon sprinted to the pile of rubble that covered Wyrda and Arya. With a feeling of intense dread, Eragon reached out his mind to see what he would find.

**I wasn't going to stop there, but I couldn't resist. And if this one gets a lot of reviews, I'll update it again before I update my other fic...**


	42. Aftermath

**A.N. So here is the newest chapter. It turned out longer than I expected, but that isn't a bad thing. Here you go!**

Eragon reached out toward the pile of rubble and fell to his knees with a sharp gasp. They were yet alive. They were fading quickly, but he had a chance. Eragon reached for his magic without even bothering to speak words. Saphira was right beside him, lifting the larger boulders with her jaws. The eldunarí and belt were already almost depleted.

"Eragon." Murtagh stood directly behind him, offering Eragon what looked to be a small pouch. "Take it. Take them. Galbatorix found a way to distort space the inside of it is larger than the outside. "They are seventeen."

Taking the pouch, Eragon gasped as his mind was momentarily overwhelmed by the consciences of the dragons. Then he hesitated a moment before reaching out toward them.

_My name is Eragon Shadeslayer. You are free from Galbatorix, and I will never force you to fight nor hold you against your will, but I request aid. A hatchling and his rider are dying, trapped beneath the rubble of a tower. Will you help me?_

The dragon that responded sounded young, not much older than Saphira was. _We will help on the condition that you free us completely, releasing us from the power held over us by our true names. If this you promise, we will join you to defeat the king._

Eragon was quick to decide. _I promise that I will release you as soon as I can. _Once more, wielding their power, Eragon began to lift the rubble, moving it away from where the two beings laid trapped. The sight beneath the mess, when Eragon finally moved it, was gruesome enough that Eragon had to reach out with his mind to reassure himself that they were still alive. He rushed over. With the removal of the rubble, Wyrda had begun to weakly pant, weak, pained gasps that barely seemed to be able to fill his body with the necessary air. Steeling himself at the sight of the injured, young dragon, he saw that Arya wasn't breathing.

Eragon knelt at her side and hurriedly began to whisper a phrase over and over in the ancient language. Her chest rose and then fell, and then rose again until; finally, she drew in a shuddering breath and began to cough. Hating himself, Eragon ignored her and turned to her dragon, knowing he was easily the more seriously injured. Eragon rested a hand on his bloodied, trembling snout as she spoke a spell to assess the damage done to the hatchling. It was easy to tell that he had shielded Arya from the worst of the damage, taking the worst of it on himself. Wyrda opened his pain-glazed eyes to stare at Eragon.

"It will be alright, Wyrda, I swear I will help you. Relax." He invaded the dragon's mind and soothed him as he began to cast spells of healing.

He was bleeding out. Along with the long abrasions crisscrossing his skin, one of his several broken ribs had pierced a lung and it had filled with blood. Eragon sped up his chant as he saw the bead of blood dripping from the dragon's mouth. He sealed what he could as quickly as possible, trying to prevent the dragon from losing anymore blood.

Arya shakily got to her feet, stumbling over to her dragon with eyes clouded in shock and pain. She watched blankly as Eragon worked to heal Wyrda and then her eyes fell on the fallen form of her mother. With a strangled cry, she ran over, collapsing beside her as she drew the fallen queen into her arms, weeping.

With bitter acknowledgement, Eragon realized that Faolin's prophecy had indeed come true. To save his rider, Wyrda had ultimately brought about the death of one that his rider loved. "Eragon." he turned and Murtagh pressed a small stone into his hand. "It is a healing stone. Galbatorix made it for me. Push you magic through it and concentrate and it used the energy to heal without the worry of using the correct words and phrases." Eragon took it. As he continued with the young dragon that was whimpering now from the pain, Murtagh sighed. "What is going to happen to me?" The question seemed to weigh heavily on his mind.

Without pausing in his healing, Eragon spoke. "You are no longer a nameslave to the king, but neither would the Varden accept you for who you are after you became a traitor to them. I would not keep you against your will or hold you as a prisoner. You are my brother. Neither will I bind you with magic."

Murtagh thought for a moment and then nodded, walking over to touch the dragon's snout, all too aware of the terrified eyes that observed him. "Slytha." He whispered, putting the dragon to sleep so that he would be unaware of the pain if only for a short time. That being done, Murtagh wiped the blood from the dragon's face with his sleeve and walked over to Eragon.

"He is naught but a hatchling."

"I had wished that he might be spared from the front of the war, but now I know it was not to be."

Suddenly, Eragon turned, ripping Zar'roc from Murtagh's hip and hitting him behind the knees hard, sending him to the ground before he could even react. "Letta." Murtagh's body froze, held still by magic, but his eyes screamed betrayal at Eragon and he saw a concealed pain in his brother's face.

"Calm yourself, Murtagh. Give me an hour before you speak. If you do not submit to me now, you will be the elves' prisoner."

At that moment, his elven guards care around the corner at full speed. Several stumbled at the sight of Arya holding their dead queen, and their expressions turned grim, but they only stopped when they reached Wyrda.

Eragon looked at them. "My energy is depleted and I have done what I can at the time. I must take care of them." Eragon gestured toward Murtagh and the shade. Keep him safe."

Eragon walked over and released Murtagh, pulling him to his feet and forcing him to mount Saphira. He leapt up behind him with the unconscious woman whose body the shade had been in and Saphira took to the air.

_Vanir, what is happening? _

_The enemy has retreated of surrendered. The battle is won!_

_Meet me at my tent outside of the city. Leave Thorn if he is needed, but join me._

_I will leave immediately._

Saphira landed outside Eragon's tent and Eragon leapt to the ground, signaling Murtagh to follow after him. He walked inside. Murtagh sat on Eragon's cot and looked up at his brother. Eragon set the woman down carefully and cast a spell to keep her asleep until he chose to wake her. He began to pace until he heard light footsteps outside the tent.

"Vanir." He said, glancing toward the city. "I am needed there. Nasuada is unfit and I must make sure that all is done in her place. But I need you here." Eragon brought him in and gestured at Murtagh before speaking in the Ancient Language. "I freed him, but you must watch him. For his sake as well. It is necessary that the Varden not know."

"I'll stay." He eyed Murtagh curiously/

_Eragon. Are you sure I am safe if you leave me in the care of an elf? They must be furious that Thorn and I killed the golden ones._

Glancing between the two, Eragon smiled slightly. "Murtagh, Vanir is the one who has been fighting alongside Thorn and taking care of him in your stead. You may not be able to speak with your dragon yet, but Vanir can best tell you how he is."

Eragon began to sprint toward the city. Saphira was circling, going to aid in the few remaining brawls that were scattered around the city. A large group of elves, singing a solemn song, bore the queen's body away. In the front of the group was Arya, her face pale and her expression taut. Watching her for only a brief second, Eragon pushed the elves from his mind and continued running.

"Roran!" Eragon had to swerve to miss his cousin who walked out of an alleyway.

His eyes were wide. "Eragon. How fast were you even moving? And you look terrible."

Eragon looked at his cousin for a moment, Alia, her coat soaked with blood left him to join at Eragon's heels as he took off again, loping easily at his side.

Finally they arrived in the market square where Eragon had left half an hour ago. In the middle, a large, red dragon lay curled beside an emerald hatchling. Saphira flew down to land beside them. Ten elves stood in a half circle around the beast, holding hands as they chanted.

"Murtagh is secure for now."

Blodhgarm's voice paused in the chant and he turned to the rider. "Are you sure he cannot get away? If he were free…"

"He does not pose a threat." Eragon went to crouch beside Wyrda's head and paused to listen to the words of the chant.

All blood left Eragon's face and he had to lean forward with his palms flat on the ground to steady himself. Their words were not those of healing. No. Their chant was forcing air in and out of his lungs and keeping his weak heart beating. They were the only thing keeping the dragon alive.

Eragon looked to Blodhgarm. The elf looked away, his shoulders sagging. "He lost too much blood. As soon as we stop, he will die."

"Is there anything…?"

"I do not know." He paused. "Perhaps. There was something from the fall that the elves learned." He glanced at Wyrda. "Blood can be transferred from one body to another. It was never tried on a dragon, but…"

"If we don't do something he will die?"

The elf nodded. But before we could even try, one of the dragons would have to have blood similar enough." The elf told him the spell and Eragon walked over to Saphira and told her what they were doing. When he had gotten the results, he told them to the elf who shook his head. "That would kill him."

Eragon nodded with a growing sense of dread and looked at Thorn. Again he turned to Blodhgarm.

The elf frowned. "Not perfect, but close enough I think. Either way, at this point I doubt we can do any more damage than has been done.

Eragon nodded. _Arya! _His mental shout rebounded off barriers of steel, erected from her grief. Eragon sighed. "Can you do the spell?"

"It is beyond my capabilities with the amount of power needed. I know you are tired as well, but I believe you have a source that will aid you." The elf gazed at the ring on his hand. "Listen closely to the spell and then repeat it back to me so that I know you have it." Eragon did so. "Ready?"

Eragon approached Thorn and met the dragon's eyes. "If it goes wrong, it could be dangerous for you as well."

He dipped his head. _The young one must survive. Even if it took my life, I would willingly give it for him. _He said. Eragon could not help a small smile at the dragon's words. He was aware of how Thorn and Saphira treated Wyrda. He had no doubts Saphira felt the same way. Thorn lowered his head to the ground. _I am ready. I was listening and know what this entails._

Eragon calmed his shaking hands and drew Brisingr, making a deep incision through the dragon's skin and scales, cutting to the vein. Thorn let out a hiss and shuddered, but he kept still. Keeping the blood in with a spell, Eragon carefully opened one of Wyrda's veins, taking care not to spill any more of his blood.

Eragon began the spell, using it to transfer Thorn's blood into the little dragon's body. Almost immediately, a wave of extreme exhaustion hit him. If not for Saphira's immediate support, it might have been too much. Eragon set the spell to draw from Aren and continued to repeat the spell.

Half an hour passed and then Blodhgarm raised his hand. Eragon ended the spell and sealed the dragons' wounds. The elf looked at the green dragon and they ended the spell. There was an intense moment of waiting before the dragon's chest rose in a shallow breath.

Blodhgarm relaxed. "I don't think he could take any more without going into worse shock than he already is, and neither do I wish to injure Thorn by taking too much. If necessary, do you have the energy to repeat this process?"

Eragon felt Aren. "I believe so."

The elves began to heal what they could of Wyrda's wounds that still marred his hide. When they had spent as much energy as was safe, one spoke. "It is all we can do. He must be kept warm."

Saphira raised her head from where she had been resting and then looked to Thorn before walking over. She curled against the smaller dragon that was only slightly larger than half her size and covered him with a wing protectively. Thorn lay on the dragon's other side, gently moving Wyrda's head to protect him from the icy wind that swept the streets. Eragon laid a hand on Saphira's neck before sealing the clearing from those meaning ill will by using the name.

"Rest, both of you. Thorn, thank you."

The dragon was humming quietly, even as his eyes closed. _This was necessary. _He shifted to be more comfortable. _Eragon, can I see my rider. I know you freed him. _His tone was nostalgic.

Eragon leaned against his neck and rubbed the flat scales of the hollow between his shoulders. _One more night, Thorn. Wyrda needy you and Saphira here with him, and I need to figure out what exactly I plan to do with Murtagh. I promise to let you see your rider tomorrow. No matter what._

Thorn wrapped his head around his body and tucked it under a wing. _If I must._

As Eragon left the market square, he realized how more level-headed Thorn was than Saphira. And Saphira was even more than either of the other two. He could not imagine Saphira submitting to anyone regarding visiting her rider.

After meeting with the Varden's council and taking a look at the extent of the battle's damage, Eragon ran to his tent.

As soon as he stepped inside, Murtagh sprang to his feet. "What happened?" He demanded. Vanir watched Murtagh carefully, not looking worried, but with his hand on his sword just in case.

"Murtagh, what-?"

"Thorn was in pain, Eragon. Intense pain, and not only for a short time either." His expression was angry, but Eragon knew it was mainly worry.

"Murtagh, relax."

Annoyance flashed in his half-brother's eyes. "Eragon, who?"

"I did it." Murtagh froze in shock and then confusion. "Calm down, brother. It was necessary and Thorn agreed to it. Without his help, Wyrda would have died." Murtagh sat down.

"Explain."

"Wyrda had lost too much blood to live. His heart stopped and the elves were the only thing keeping him alive. Blodhgarm, one of my guards, said that the only way he might live was if we transferred blood from one of the other dragons to his body."

"Why not Saphira?"

"It was not a good match." He sighed. "Now come. You will see Thorn tomorrow, but as of now, I must visit Nasuada. Angela is with her right now and she is awake." Eragon lifted the sleeping body of the woman. I think I will leave her for Angela to handle.

He cast a spell to make the woman invisible and then went to Nasuada's tent. Eragon entered and found a sword directly in front of him before a smile came over Vea's face and she stepped back.

"How is she?"

Vea smirked. "Protesting that Angela will not let her leave the bed, arguing that the Varden needs her, and complaining. Come and see for yourself." Eragon set the woman down and cast a spell to prevent eavesdropping, and walked to Nasuada.

"How are you?"

She grimaced. "Fine, I guess. I feel weak, but it doesn't hurt much anymore. A bit cold."

Angela was off preparing what looked to be a salve, and after giving Eragon a questioning glance, she returned to her work.

Eragon rearranged her blankets to cover her better. Nasuada spoke again. "What happened? I assume we won, because you are sitting here, but how?"

"Aye, we won, but the losses were high. The elves in particular took a hit. A shade was there with Murtagh."

"And?"

Eragon paused. "The shade is gone –I'll explain in a minute– and Murtagh is my prisoner in the eyes of the Varden. Liríl, the shade, managed to wreak havoc among the men and elves alike before I stopped her.

"Do you know any numbers?"

Eragon nodded. "The battle ended four hours ago. After you were injured, I took control of the Varden. I didn't know what you would have wanted, but it was a bit confusing and panicked and they needed a leader. Everything is settled now. The werecats are currently clearing the city, checking for resistance. Vanir, Roran, and Alia went to check over Helgrind, though it looked to be empty and Murtagh believes there is nothing there worth mentioning."

He met Nasuada's eyes. "There are two hundred and nine confirmed dead among the dwarves. The Varden lost three hundred and fifty seven confirmed, and Surda two hundred ninety four. Casualties run much higher. Eight werecats were lost and near thirty elves."

Nasuada paled and leaned back,], but Eragon had not finished yet.

"Wyrda almost died as well, but he looks as if he will make a full recovery. He sacrificed himself to save Arya. And Queen Islanzadí was killed."

She was silent for a long while. "The elves?"

"Arya will likely rule in regency until a new leader is decided."

Nasuada sighed in relief at that one piece of good news.

Eragon looked at his leader's pale face. "What now?"

"As much as I hate it, I know I am unfit to lead the Varden at this moment. I will need you to function as my mouthpiece. That you have already established control is good. It will make it easier. The Varden, seeing me in such a shape, would be detrimental to their hopes of winning. I am well aware of how much they idolize me as their leader."

Eragon nodded. "I used the Name to free Murtagh. He will fight with us." Eragon passed Nasuada a canteen of water as he saw her glance toward it. "He and the eldunarí he carried with him will help to make up for the losses suffered."

"The Varden will never accept Murtagh."

"I know. That is why he is my prisoner. My thoughts were that he might be able to go into the battle in Uru'baen disguised as Vanir."

"Are you sure Vanir wouldn't-"

"An elf is no replacement for a real rider and his dragon. Especially facing a bonded pair. Thorn and Vanir were never able to defeat Saphira and me for that reason. But Thorn, with Murtagh as his rider, has before, even when Vanir is the better swordsman than Murtagh is."

"All Galbatorix would need do is call his true name again."

"There are spells to counter that. And even if they failed, it takes little energy to release one from that control. I would keep him close. Or I could cast a spell to let me know if he is bound. If I were to project my voice-" Eragon grinned. "That's it."

"Eragon, I am not at my best right now. I'm afraid you'll have to explain."

"How much would you say Galbatorix's troops outnumber ours by?"

"At least double, if not triple, but that is not accounting for the fact that the elves and werecats are worth more than their number in a battle. They are still not good odds. What are you thinking?"

"It would take quite a bit of energy, but if I were to project my voice over the city with the true name of the ancient language, I could release countless people from oaths. It would cause widespread confusion and chaos. And the Grey Folk assured me that none but I would be able to remember the Name. It would be a good advantage."

"Mmh."

Eragon smiled at her as he realized she was barely keeping her eyes open. "I'll leave you to rest and I'll be back tomorrow to give you an update." She was already asleep. Eragon looked to Angela. "I brought a woman here. She is by the door. I know she was the Varden's spy in Uru'baen and that she was the one Galbatorix made into a shade. I freed her, but I have no idea what else to do so I brought her to you."

Angela rolled her eyes, though he saw a glimmer of surprise. "I don't know why I even expect normality with you around anymore. Leave her. I'll take care of it."

Eragon nodded and left.

It was dark as Eragon made his way back to his tent. Alia had contacted him and told him that she was in his tent and that Vanir had left. As he passed Arya's tent, he sensed her presence and knew that she was inside. He slowly opened the flap to her tent and found her standing in the center, not really looking at anything.

He stepped forward and laid his hand on her arm, receiving no response. Eragon studied her blank expression before speaking. "Wyrda should be alright." A strange look came over her face and Eragon sighed. He gently put his arm around her. "Arya, you don't have to be strong for me."

She finally reacted. Arya turned to him, her mask crumbling and tears filling her eyes. Before he could do anything, she had come into his arms. Eragon held her tightly as she wept, but didn't speak, rubbing her back.

"I'm lost, Eragon." She whispered.

He stroked her hair gently. "What do you mean?"

She gasped, trying to control her breathing before she could respond. "I can't be my mother."

"No one expects you to be."

Arya could not help her tears. "We never got along, Eragon. For the majority of my life we were at odds. She… she probably thought I hated her."

Eragon knew just how distraught Arya was as she began to tremble in his arms. "She loved you, Arya, and I'm sure she knew that you loved her as well. You spoke much in the days preceding the battle."

She nodded and then spoke no more as she allowed her grief to run its course. Eventually, she went still in his arms. As if leading a child. Eragon gently guided Arya to her cot and forced her to lie down before he drew her blankets up to her chin. Arya simply stared at him. Eragon sat on her cot beside her and took her hand.

"Sleep, Arya."

He stayed until she had drifted off to sleep and then a while longer, watching her peaceful expression as she relaxed. With a sigh, Eragon bent over and kissed her brow before leaving. "Sleep well, Arya."

Eragon entered his own tent to find Murtagh sitting cross-legged on a bedroll with a book spread across his lap. Eragon raised his eyebrows slightly.

Murtagh tilted the book so that Eragon could see the cover. _Dominia abr Wyrda. _"I hope you don't mind. You mentioned it in Uru'baen, and I've never had a chance to read the true history."

"It's fine." Eragon spoke, setting wards around his tent as well as one against eavesdroppers. He was not willing to take any chances.

Murtagh put a marker in and shut the book. "Where were you, anyway? You left hours ago."

Eragon sighed, lifting Alia from his bed and laying down, replacing the werecat at his side where she curled up with a slight growl of protest at being moved. "I was with Arya. I stayed until she fell asleep to make sure that she would."

"Is she alright?"

"Probably not." Eragon admitted. "After a hundred and some years, she just lost her mother whom she had just repaired her relationship with. And if that wasn't enough, Wyrda almost died today and is still unconscious."

_You are good for the elf. _Alia spoke. _She was very much distraught before you were with her. _Eragon smiled at her and scratched her behind the ears, causing her to purr.

Murtagh stared and then shook his head. "He doesn't like me, does she?" He asked, looking at the werecat.

Eragon laughed. "First of all, Alia is a _she._ And her respect is not an easy thing to win. Still sometimes I believe that she likes my cousin more than she does me."

Alia let out a noise like a snort. _He is less a fool, rider. You, however, do not think before you act._

_Will you ever call me by my name?_

_Perhaps. _With that, she closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. While Murtagh was fooled, Eragon was not. He only laughed quietly and looked back to his half-brother.

"What is your relationship with Arya?" he asked curiously.

Eragon frowned. "I'm honestly not sure. We are not mates, but at the same time we are more than friends."

"Mates?"

Eragon shrugged. "Elves don't marry. It makes sense if you think about it."

"I suppose, but it's… It doesn't seem right somehow."

"Seems fine to me, but then, I have lived among the elves for a decent amount of time." Eragon pulled his blankets over him, hiding from the cool chill of the night. He would move to sleeping in the city tomorrow, but at the moment, it was not worth the effort to move his stuff. "Any romances for you?" Eragon asked with a small smile.

"No." Murtagh said with a small smile. "Nothing serious. A few minor relationships, but nothing that ever lasted. Now, with my status as a rider, I see that as a good thing."

Eragon nodded in understanding and then he yawned. "I need to get to sleep. Today was long, and I feel as if I will never regain the strength I used today." Eragon reached out with magic and put out the lamp in the room. "Goodnight, Murtagh."

"Eragon?"

"Hmm?"

"Tomorrow will you explain everything? How I am free and what you did to Liríl? I also want to know what your plan is if you remain a nameslave. I know you are because your injuries are only treated with non-magical means."

"Tomorrow I will explain. Goodnight."

He heard Murtagh shift and then yawn. "Goodnight, brother.

**So... Did you like it? Tell me what you think.**


	43. The Next Day

**A.N. I apologize for the long wait time, but too much has been happening. Know this though, I will stick every fic I start through to the end and this is no exception. So, here you go.**

Eragon woke with a start to find that the sun had already partially risen. Murtagh was silently sitting with his legs crossed as his eyes skimmed the runes filling the pages of _Dominia abr Wyrda_ by the light of a small magical orb he had made to hand directly above the book. Eragon stretched and looked at his brother for a few seconds before speaking.

"I am most likely needed. With Nasuada injured, I have the responsibility to lead the Varden in her stead."

A few minutes later, Eragon had dressed himself in a simple, white elfin tunic. It was cold, but not unbearably so and he could always heat the air around him if he really needed it to be any warmer. Eragon reached over and scratched between Alia's ears, waking the werecat. She blinked and stretched, displaying dagger-like teeth as she yawned. Eragon strapped his belt and sword to his waist and cast several basic wards just in case.

"Alia, would you stay here and watch over Murtagh until I can find out just what is going on? If anyone tried to interfere, send for me and threaten them if it is necessary."

Her tail flicked back and forth lazily and she rubbed herself against his side. Eragon snorted at her obvious gesture and petted her, knowing that was what she wanted. She purred and tilted her head, looking up at him. _Though it would interest me to see the proceedings today, I will do as you wish. I shall guard him for you, Rider._

Eragon nodded. _Thank you. It shall not be for too long. I will take care of it as soon as I can. And I assume you wish to visit Wyrda as well?_

_He can be a pest, but he is a good friend and a hatchling at that. I would like to see him as soon as I can._

Eragon looked to Murtagh. "If Alia tells you to do something, obey her. She understands the current situation better than you do. I will try to e back as soon as possible, but knowing how the Varden is, it could be a while. And there is much to do."

"I understand. But as soon as you can, I want to know how you have accomplished what you did. And Thorn, I must see Thorn."

"All in good time." Murtagh frowned, but nodded. Eragon strapped the bag with the eldunarí to his belt and reached out his mind toward them. _Today you will be free._Eragon felt the dragons' anticipation and excitement. Eragon didn't suspect that the king would place spells to determine the changing of am eldunarí's name, but there was always a chance. Either way, there was no way he would leave them to be nameslaves as they were currently.

He paused outside Ayra's tent and glanced in when it seemed all still. It was empty, but a faint glow came from her bed. Curiously, Eragon walked over and picked it up. As soon as he touched it, it stopped glowing. It was a note.

_Eragon, I have gone to my people. Until we choose a new leader, I must mind my duties and lead my people. I have taken the liberty to arrange a meeting an hour after dawn in the meeting hall on the southern edge of the city. We must determine the next steps in the war. –Arya_

Eragon frowned at the note. The tone in it was brusque and cold, and her handwriting, usually neat and elegant, was haphazard and sloppy. It was obvious she had not paid any attention to nor cared about the note. As she usually wrote with only the utmost care, tracing every letter perfectly, it worried him. With a sigh, Eragon tucked the note into a pocket and glanced up at the sky to see approximately what time it was.

The sun had broken over the horizon, and orange and yellow strips of color painted the sky. He had an hour. Taking off at a brisk jog, Eragon quickly entered the city and made his way to the sealed market square where Wyrda had been injured.

As Eragon neared, Saphira rumbled a greeting to him and Thorn raised his head to watch him approach. Then he spoke. _Eragon, could you put Wyrda back to sleep. He woke almost two hours ago and it takes everything we can do to keep him from slipping into panic. He is in a lot of pain._

_I'll speak with him and see if I cannot help him. Then I will let him sleep._

Eragon sat beside the hatchling and saw that he was indeed awake. His breath came in sharp, pained gasps and his eyes were clouded with fear and pain. Eragon's chest ached for the suffering of the dragon, still innocent in his youth.

_Wyrda._He spoke gently, lifting the dragon's head to rest in his lap as he traced the iridescent emerald scales of the dragon's head. _Try to breathe slowly and evenly if it is possible. You will hurt less if you can._

_Arya!_The dragon projected his mind in an unorganized state of terror from his pain and confusion. His thoughts and emotions lay unguarded from Eragon's mind.

Eragon stroked the dragon's neck and head. "Relax, Wyrda." He spoke with both his voice and mind, trying to soothe Wyrda. "Arya is with the elves. Her mother was killed and she is needed as their leader until everything is settled. She will come as soon as she is able. Please try to breathe."

_It hurts._He said quietly in a voice which caused Eragon's throat to tighten. The childlike fear and innocence in that almost whispered comment were profound. _I want it to stop._A whimper escaped his throat.

With a worried expression, Saphira nudged Wyrda with her nose and hummed quietly. Eragon wondered what she was doing, but he seemed to relax and did make an effort to breathe more slowly. Saphira met Eragon's eyes with hers. _I think it would be best if you put him back to sleep now._

Eragon sighed but nodded. "Slytha." He spoke and the dragon's eyes closed. And he remained there until the time came for the meeting, watching the dragon fight for every breath he took into his lungs. As he finally stood, the remaining of his elvin guard watched him with sad expressions.

_Watch over him, Thorn, and do not hesitate to call for me if you sense that something is amiss that the elves cannot handle._

_I will watch the young one._

Eragon nodded, assured, and turned to Saphira. _Ready?_He asked, swinging onto her back and grabbing one of her spines for balance. In response to his question, Saphira raised her wings and, with one powerful snap, launched herself up into the air.

They landed just outside the large meeting hall that had been used for trade. A table and chairs had been set up inside. Saphira snaked her head and neck in through an opening meant for wagons and carriages to be brought through before giving a hiss of displeasure. She pulled out and ripped off a bit of the stone to give herself just enough room to crawl inside. Eragon felt the corners of his mouth twitch as the thought entered his mind that she really did not fit at all, but at her heavy glare, Eragon forced his expression blank and she turned the look on the rest of the occupants instead.

After ten minutes, the rest of the people meant to attend the meeting had arrived and they all settled around the table. There was a moment of silence and then an elder on Nasuada's council stood. "In leave of Nasuada, who has been injured, the council will stand in her stead to lead the Varden."

Sending the man a glare, as he had already tried to quash this the day before, after the battle, Eragon also stood. "In this regard, the council is misinformed. It has been recorded as spoken by the Lady Nasuada that in the event of her being rendered incapable of leading the Varden, that I, Eragon Shadeslayer, would take her place. This has been confirmed that it was indeed her will last night."

The man seemed to be trying to force Eragon to back down with his hateful stare, but Eragon merely looked back at him with an unconcerned expression. Releasing an annoyed growl, the man sat. Eragon looked around to see that everyone was watching him, waiting to see what he would have to say. Eragon scanned the faces, his eyes resting briefly on Arya who gave him a subtle nod as if to say she was alright. He gave her just as small a nod and then spoke.

"During the battle, Lady Nasuada was stabbed in the stomach by a magical dagger that was designed to slip through wards. Aid was provided quickly enough to save her and she should recover within the week. As for Wyrda, who was also injured, he will live, but he is not well." Arya looked down, a single tear running down her cheek. Eragon nodded and sat.

Then Arya stood. "Queen Islanzadí was killed by a shade during the battle." She swallowed, but her posture remained cool and distant. "Until the time may come when the elves choose another leader, I, by my right as princess of the elves and as rider, will lead."

After a minute, Eragon realized again that everyone was looking to him and understood. It was Nasuada who had always led these meetings. He sighed and picked up a paper on the table and skimmed it quickly. It was the figures of the dead and injured as well as prisoners.

"They say you have captured the traitor rider." A man spoke suddenly, cutting through the silence.

"Murtagh was indeed taken prisoner. He will remain under my watch as I am the only one who can subdue him. There is to be no attempt to injure or kill him as it would negatively affect Thorn. And we need the ruby dragon's help. Is this understood?" There were many nods. "The shade has been taken care of also. Liríl is vanquished and will never harm another again. What we must do though, is decide on what path we will take to Uru'baen, and when. It is a decision I do not think we should make without Nasuada's input as she has led us successfully thus far in the war. Is anyone in disagreement?"

There was no argument and they moved on to discuss banal matters for a while. Finally, the meeting was dismissed and Eragon walked over to Arya. Once they were alone, he hugged her lightly and was about to pull back when her arms pulled him closer. He could hear that she was barely holding herself together, but tried her hardest with the burden on her shoulders.

"Wyrda needs you." Eragon said quietly. "I went to see him this morning and he is not in a good state. I did my best, but he needs his rider." She nodded. "I also think he might blame himself for her death. I'm not sure, but…"

Arya pulled away and watched him. "Eragon, I was thinking this morning and I realized something." She paused. "Faolin's prophecy…"

"I noticed that too." Eragon sighed. "I'm sorry." He said.

She only nodded. "I want to go and see Wyrda." She said and he nodded, releasing her so that she could leave. Giving him a last glance, Arya left.

Eragon paused and then went to stop by Nasuada's tent. As soon as Angela saw him, she threw him a nasty glare and forced him into a chair. "You complete and utter fool!" She said, gesturing to the bandages around his arms. "You were injured and you tried to treat yourself? Blockhead! Think, Eragon, what is to happen if you get an infection and we cannot treat it with magic? As much as it pains me to admit it, we need you in this war. You are risking everyone with your idiocy."

Chastised, Eragon was wise enough to hold his tongue as she unwrapped the dressings he had applied. He thought that she was perhaps using more force than was necessary, but decided it would be prudent to hold his tongue. As she applied salves and poultices to his wounds, all the time ranting about his intelligence and occasionally making obscure but insulting references to his parentage and ancestry. As she tied off the last cloth, Angela had seemed to have calmed down. Eragon gave her a last, anxious look and then walked over through the curtain to where Nasuada was.

She was sitting in a chair with deep cushions, wrapped in several warm fur blankets, but her face was still extremely pale and her eyes bore a tired, pained look to them. Despite this, she managed a weak laugh when Eragon walked in and took a seat in a wooden chair facing her. "You should have known better than to upset Angela like that."

Eragon smiled. "There was a lot on my mind. And I did learn some healing with the elves."

"Then you have no excuse for the terrible job you did on your wounds!" Angela exclaimed, walking in.

Eragon rolled his eyes and turned back to Nasuada, who was fighting to keep her expression neutral, before continuing. "We had a meeting this morning, but no plans were made. I wanted to know what your thoughts are before I mention anything."

"Well, we will have to wait until out troops recover, because unlike the king, our resources are very limited and we don't have any men to spare." She pulled the blankets closer around herself and Eragon noticed that she was shivering. He leaned forward and cast a spell to warm the air around her, protecting her from the winter chill that was seeping in through the tent. She smiled slightly in gratitude.

"Would you mind explaining everything that happened yesterday again?" She asked. "I know you explained before, but it all seems a blur now."

Eragon complied and repeated all the facts that he had told her the day before.

Angela interrupted. "Speaking of which, I have had Vea bring the shade here. I believe you insisted that you be the one to deal with her. Eragon nodded and looked to Nasuada. She shrugged. "Bring her in here so that I can see. I admit to being slightly curious about this."

The girl was set gently on a blanket on the ground and Eragon whispered a word to wake her. Immediately, she began to scream, the noise grating at his sensitive ears. In a desperate attempt to get her to stop, Eragon invaded her mind and began to work quickly, muttering in the ancient language and sorting through the memories in her mind. After a minute, the woman stopped screaming and he retreated from her mind.

Eragon looked up to see the startled expressions on Nasuada's face and the anxious frown that Angela was wearing. "I didn't think. She retained all the memory of her time while she was under the spirits' control. She remembers everything she felt or… did. It is hidden now, but will return with time when she is ready." He glanced back down at the woman.

She blinked up at them in confusion, her eyes vacant, but they were quickly clearing. At that moment, Vea returned with a man. "Her husband." She spoke softly. "They have not been married long, but I thought that he would be a good idea to have near." As soon as he saw his fearful wife, the man dropped to his knees beside her and pulled her against his chest. In her husband's embrace, the girl, named Marian as he had found out, wept. They were sent on their way with specific instructions not to tell anyone about the shade, only that Marian had been rescued after the king had caught her.

Eragon paused a moment before going on. "Murtagh will fight on Thorn in Uru'baen. There is nothing stronger than a bonded pair in battle."

"I will submit to your discretion in the matter of Murtagh under one condition. Murtagh must swear the oath to you that the other riders and dragons are under and an additional one that he will not betray the Varden to the king. Under no other circumstances will I trust him."

"That should be agreeable. If there is no more, I must deal with Murtagh."

She nodded. "And Eragon? Thank you for saving me."

He smiled and took off at a brisk jog through the tents, slipping into his tent almost silently and startling Murtagh.

"Eragon, what is going on?"

"I think I promised that you could see Thorn."

A slow smiled spread over Murtagh's face. "Now?"

He nodded and cast a spell of invisibility over Murtagh. "Now come. He is in the market square with Saphira and Wyrda."

Eragon took off at a run, but then realized that without the eldunarí Murtagh no longer had the speed or strength he did. Muttering a brief apology, Eragon slowed his pace to match that of his half-brother.

As they entered the square, Murtagh froze and his eyes were riveted on the ruby dragon that raised his head upon Murtagh's arrival. Neither moved, each waiting for the other to act first. Then Thorn let out a warm growl and an exited tremor ran through his body and then he padded over.

Murtagh stared as his dragon lowered his head and looked him in the eyes before tentatively reaching out to touch his dragon's consciousness. There were thick barriers shielding his memories, but the dragon lowered them, and Murtagh let himself be taken in with complete abandon as he launched himself at his dragon.

Eragon smiled as he watched and walked over to lean against Saphira's side, letting the pair catch up with each other. Taking a deep breath, Eragon did something that he knew had to be done, he opened the bag of eldunarí and placed them on the ground before him, setting Glaedr and Vanilor off to one side. None of the eldunarí were quite as big as the ones he had, but he felt their minds swirling as he reached toward them.

_It is time._Eragon spoke. _You will be free of the king's rule and masters of yourselves. I ask for aid if it is willingly give, but I never will take servitude or slavery._

_We wish to be freed._One spoke and Eragon guessed her to be near Wyrda's age if not younger.

Eragon nodded and enveloped the eldunarí in his mind and then began to whisper a phrase several times over before invoking the name of the ancient language. A sudden rush of magic left him and Eragon went dizzy before he was flooded with energy from the newly freed eldunarí. There were seventeen and may tried to speak at once.

_Wait. I cannot understand you like that._

_We are sorry._Several responded at once and then one seemed to take lead over the group.

_My name is Riade. I was nearing my second year when Galbatorix stole my heart-of-hearts and killed my body. I am the eldest of our group. The king has kept the elders for their power._

The others introduced themselves from eldest to youngest, ending with a dragon who had not been two months when he had been enslaved. Eragon slipped them back in the bag along with Vanilor. They had taken to speaking with the elder dragon quickly and Eragon was soon forgotten and excluded from the strange communication they were using. Sights, smells and sounds rather than words made up the thoughts they projected and Eragon suddenly understood that this was how the dragons had spoken before they had leaned the tongues of man. He slipped Glaedr, who had reduced to a dim golden glow, into the bag as well and sealed it, making sure it was safe before walking over to Arya.

"How is he?" He asked quietly, seeing that Arya was cleaning the dried blood and dirt from Wyrda's scales with a cloth she had retrieved.

"I woke him to speak with him. He calmed a bit at my voice, but I couldn't bear to force him to remain awake. Eventually he will need to get up and move to fully heal, but as of now, he can sleep." She took a deep breath, looking at her dragon. "I came so close to losing him. If he had-" Arya's eyes darkened and she looked away.

"I understand." Eragon helped her to clean her dragon before seeing Murtagh motion him over.

"Yes?" He asked, smiling as Thorn looked as content as Eragon had ever seen him.

"Is there any possible way we can go flying?"

Eragon hesitated. "It is dangerous." Murtagh's face fell and Eragon suddenly pitied him, thinking of how that would be the first thing he would want to do with Saphira after being separated for so long. "If you are careful you may, but you must stay high enough that no one can recognize you."

He nodded immediately and turned, but Eragon caught his arm. "Murtagh, as the leader of the order of the riders, I wish for you to swear to me."

His eyes hardened and his shoulders stiffened. "I am finally free and you wish to bind me again?"

"Not like that, Murtagh, I will not attempt to control. I do not desire, and would never use that power. It is the same oath that Thorn swore to me and Wyrda and Arya as well. Also, Nasuada wishes you to swear that you will not betray the Varden to the king. They are unavoidable."

Murtagh watched him through narrowed eyes for a moment before swearing the oaths.

As the ruby pair took to the skies, Eragon felt a new surge of hope rise within himself. Three riders and their dragons would fight side by side to stand against the king. He was no longer alone in his quest and the end goal had never seemed so close. With a small sigh, Eragon went back to help Arya with Wyrda.

**Again, sorry for the wait, but a lot has been happening with me. Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. I look forward to seeing what you have to say. And remember, the four-hundredth reviewer gets the chapter dedicated to them. **


	44. A Return to Normalcy

**This chapter (long-awaited I know) is dedicated to ShinyCrobat for having the four-hundredth. Thank you for everyone who has read and reviewed my story and enjoy the chapter!**

Five days had past, and Eragon was helping Nasuada to her feet. The wound had taken a turn for the worse, threatening her life despite the attempts of Angela and the best of the elves' healers. Even now, two days after the fever had broken and the beginning of her recovery, she was pale and weak. But she insisted that she needed to be seen by the Varden and Eragon agreed There had been rumors going around that Nasuada had been killed in the battle, and no matter how hard Eragon had tried to quash them, they remained. Panic had spread and people were losing hope. It had surprised Nasuada that she was seen as a figurehead. She had always believed that Eragon was the one that gave the Varden hope and that they believed would lead them to victory. He was, but so was she.

A quick, drawn in gasp escaped Nasuada as she stumbled. Eragon tightened his grip on her arm and let her catch her breath as she held her stomach. She looked up, meeting Eragon's eyes, and nodded, painfully straightening so that the Varden could not see her weakness as it was. Alia padded along at Eragon's heels. She had taken to following him around everywhere. After the battle, Eragon had earned some measure of respect in her eyes, but she still called him 'rider.'

"Are you sure you can make it?" Eragon asked quietly out of the corner of his mouth, observing the expression on Nasuada's face as she forced herself to continue at the same pace.

"I must." She said resolutely. "We should be marching for Galbatorix at this minute. The longer we wait, the more time he has to prepare for us, creating more monsters like the one that he used to attack me. It is not like he does not know our plans. Any fool could guess that we will be attacking Uru'baen at the soonest opportunity." She looked up at Eragon again. "What's wrong?"

"I am worried." He admitted as they continued on through the city. Several people had seen them walking and run to spread the news that Nasuada had been seen with Eragon Shadeslayer, a bit wan, but walking around and most definitely alive. She waited for him to continue. "No matter how the Varden fares against the Empire, in the end everything will come down to me and my success against the king. I have Murtagh and Thorn to fight beside me against him, but I know it must be me who deals the final blow."

"You have Arya and Wyrda as well."

"Not to fight the king." Eragon said, shaking his head. "I will not allow them to be placed in that dangerous a situation. Arya could hold her own, I know, but Wyrda has had little training, and in his training there are large gaps. And that is not to mention that he is so much smaller even than Thorn and Saphira. Shruikan could crush him in an instant. He is still a hatchling. And his condition now is not at its best. He is healing, but you will see. In fact, we're almost there. Can you handle a bit more walking?"

"Eragon." She said somewhat sharply. "I am no child for you to be coddling like this. I am a leader and a warrior. If I could not deal with a little pain, I would be useless in both of those roles." As if to prove her point, she began to walk a bit faster. Eragon decided that it was best not to respond and simply walked beside her quietly until they reached the square in the center of the city where the dragons still stayed.

Saphira looked over at them and walked over, nudging Eragon's side. _You have not visited much, Little One. And when you have, it was always to see Wyrda. _There was jealousy in her voice.

Eragon gave her a small smile and rubbed the scales beneath her chin, causing her to close her eyes. _I am Sorry, Saphira. I did not mean to neglect you. Between the responsibilities I have taken over from Nasuada until she recovers as well as everything else, I have been busy. But that is no excuse for me not to come and see you. I will do better._

She hummed contentedly, accepting his apology, and then snorted in amusement as Wyrda got gingerly to his feet for the sole purpose of going after Thorn who had been teasing him. Then the dragon turned and saw Eragon with Nasuada. He hopped painfully over and stared at the two of them.

_Eragon, you must see Arya. Among the elves it is custom that the leader choose their successor. She is stretched thin as she tried to organize the elves and fulfill the duties of a rider. _When Eragon nodded, he looked over at Nasuada. _You look like I feel. _He said wryly.

Nasuada stared at him for a moment and then laughed, reaching out to pat the young dragon's snout. Alia walked over and wound herself around Wyrda's legs, glad to see the dragon up and moving.

Eragon was running his hands along where the worst of the dragon's wounds had been. "How are your wings. "Have you tried to spread them?"

Wyrda shook his head, and at Eragon's insistence, attempted tentatively to open his wings. His right wing spread fine, its only injury having been a slight fracture as that had been underneath the dragon, shielded from the rocks. The other wing had taken a large percentage of the rocks directly and it had taken all the skill of Eragon, Arya, and the elves to make sure it had healed right. He lifted it slowly, attempting to straighten it, and then recoiled, drawing it back. Eragon was satisfied; he had almost managed to extend it fully.

_Everything seemed fine with it Wyrda. In several more days, you will be better healed. Perhaps soon you will be in the air again. That you do not have to worry about at least. You will fly again. _Eragon could sense the relief coming from the dragon and reassured him a bit more.

Then he walked to Thorn. Murtagh was again being held in his tent under the supervision of one of Eragon's remaining elven guard. Eragon had explained the situation to them and they had reluctantly agreed upon the arrangements. As soon as the other elves had come to know of Murtagh's imprisonment, they had demanded of him being delivered to them. The malice in their eyes at this, as well as watching some of them fight let Eragon know that he knew nothing of the elves still. Arya was unlike them, her personality influenced not only by her time among the elves, but from the longer time she had spent in human company and in the company of dwarves. Likewise, his elven guard had been specifically chosen to be of the elves who did not bear resentment towards humans. That attitude seemed to be rampant among them. Even Vanir had shown it from time to time, but Eragon suspected he hid it out of the respect that Eragon had earned from him. Nasuada had earned a sort of grudging respect from him as well for her masterful handling of all matters political and social that popped up within the Varden.

"Should we go to the elves? I suspect you would want to come if Arya is choosing the new leader." Nasuada nodded, but a look of dread crossed her face briefly as she considered the walk to where the elves were. They had refused to stay inside the city, claiming it was too tainted with blood for them to remain. Eragon agreed, but had no choice because of the dragons. Still, blood stained the snow a week after and there was the feeling of death hanging in the air. "Saphira can give us a ride there, Nasuada. I do not expect you to walk."

"Thank you." She said gratefully to both Saphira and Eragon. Seeing her staring at Saphira's high back, despite the fact that Saphira was crouching with her belly on the ground, Eragon lifted her onto Saphira's pack and climbed up as well. Alia followed quickly and they took off. As the cool wind blew against them, Nasuada looked around. "This really is marvelous." She said, awe in her voice. "I don't see why you would ever want to land."

Saphira flew for a long loop, diving low over the middle of the lake, which had not frozen, so that their reflection danced on top the waves. Then she flew over to the camp where the elves were and they dismounted. An elf with silvery hair noticed them. His eyes passed over Nasuada briefly and then fixed on Eragon. "She has been waiting for you."

Eragon nodded his understanding and walked over to the emerald tent that Arya had been working out of. There was one guard standing outside, but upon seeing them he stepped aside, not bothering to ask questions or even to announce them to Arya. They walked in and Arya looked up. She too looked worn by the last week. It had been hard on her to lose her mother almost immediately after their reconciliation. And it had been worse with Wyrda fighting for his life. Every free moment she could have been found with him whether he was sleeping or awake, and they had sat, sometimes silently, sometimes speaking as his body began to heal from the injuries he had collected. She had been bruised, and one rib had been broken, but Wyrda had protected her well, saved her life.

"Have you decided on who you will choose to lead the elves?"

She considered him and then nodded slowly. "There is one elf I would trust to do a good job with this. My choices were slim. I could not choose the one simply most qualified to lead. I needed not only to find one who wouldn't alienate humans but also who would understand how to fight a war. There are too many elves who try to rely simply on their strength to accomplish what they must do. In the past it has been enough, but with Galbatorix's monsters that he keeps creating, it will not be sufficient." She looked at Nasuada. "You should consider who you would like to take over the Varden in the event of your death. I know you have chosen Eragon to fill that place, and he has done well enough, but he could only ever be a provisional leader. A rider cannot be a monarch. We have seen how well that has turned out. Do you know who you would choose? Have you considered it? For if something happens, Eragon likely has enough of a clout within the Varden to push through the one you would trust."

Nasuada paused in thought. "My first thought was Angela, but I know on no one insane enough to give her control of something like this. Orrin I would have once chosen, but I would no longer." She thought for a while longer. "I do not know. Perhaps Vea would do well. She has a mind for politics. Often it is her I discuss them with. And she is a fighter. She can defend herself and her mind well from others. It is unlikely anyone would go along with it, but I suppose without thinking more I would choose her If I indeed had to choose."

Eragon nodded. "I took most of my advice on dealing with the Varden from her. I am no politician. The only reason they listen to me is because I am a rider. I still think like a farm boy half the time."

Arya laughed quietly as she stood and walked over. "You would do fine if you tried. Half of politics is experience. But it would be interesting to see what Galbatorix would think if he found Vea the leader of the Varden. It would be amusing no doubt to see his expression."

"That is true." Eragon smiled. He had gotten to understand the king in the time he was trapped in Uru'baen. For him to find out that his daughter was alive and fighting for the Varden. He had learned, but had not found the heart to tell Vea, that the king killed any children that were born to them if they were female. He kept some of the sons, but if they were in any way insufficient in his eyes, they suffered the same fate as the daughters.

Nasuada was staring at them. "What are you talking about?"

Eragon looked at Nasuada in surprise. He had been unaware that she did not know the story of Alana and Vea. He looked over at Arya to see the same surprise on her face. Then Eragon spoke. "It is Vea's story to tell." He said finally, meeting Nasuada's eyes. She seemed to understand and let it be.

Arya sighed. "It is time, I believe. By now the elves will have gather and expect me to speak. I announced this morning that I will chose the next leader of the elves. I plan to address them before I leave my role. If I speak well, I hope I can convince at least a few of the elves to trust the Varden to fight alongside them. As of now, they trust the Varden little. They are seen as an army of humans that some see as a threat, like Galbatorix. There is too much bitterness the elves refuse to let go of. I am going to try and dispel at least a little." They walked outside and through the elven camp to reach the center. There was a small raised platform surrounded by hundreds of elves, sitting cross-legged on the ground. There was complete silence. Saphira laid down on the edge of the circle of elves, but close to the platform that Arya was walking toward. Eragon and Nasuada sat against the sapphire dragon's side, protected from the cold and wind.

Arya addressed the crowd. "The elves have stood united beneath my mother for near a hundred years, and they have followed my family for near a millennium, but now I choose to pass the mantle to a new family. I am the last of my own, and as a rider, I cannot and will not try to claim any sort of monarchial power. Queen Islanzadí led our people through one of the hardest times we have faced. When King Evander was killed, the elves nearly split, and the first Rider War threatened to destroy us. I was young then, almost too young to remember, but I remember enough. The situation is the same now. The war is rampant and our leader has fallen to the tides of battle. This time we will not fall apart. We will fight the dark king and we will restore the honor of the elves. Last war, the elves chose to flee to Du Weldenvarden when things started to go badly. We abandoned the humans to a fate they themselves could not face. We knew this yet we allowed them to fall under Galbatorix's power. The situation we are in is as much our fault as it is theirs, or perhaps more.

"The humans fought for seven years after the elves left the war and all the riders were defeated. Of the three elven riders whose dragons were killed but they lived, one chose to fight. That was Vrael, but in a moment of weakness he hesitated to kill his enemy, a move that a human would not have made. A move that cost everything. Among the humans, there was one rider who lost his dragon and learned to live alone. His name was Brom. Singlehandedly, he fought and killed the remainder of the Forsworn. He established the Varden. He dedicated his life to setting up the king for defeat. It was his plan that returned to us a dragon egg. Later that dragon hatched. Saphira. What few know is that the dragon in fact hatched for his son. For Brom was Eragon's father. The humans have done more to stop the war than the elves, yet we treat them like they are inferior, like animals, the dwarves as well. I have lived among all three and I find that there are fewer differences than we like to believe. It is too much to ask that you trust them, but I ask that at least give them a chance. The Varden are our allies and they are to be respected. The Urgals and the werecats have joined them as have the dwarves. They put aside age-old disagreements and fight together, yet we cannot do the same."

Arya paused and looked over the elves she was speaking to with a sigh. "I have chosen an elf to succeed me whom I know will lead you well and that will do what is necessary to lead the elves, along with all the other peoples of Alagaesia, to victory and would not abandon them to the king when it gets tough. The elf I have chosen has earned my respect not only in the time I dwelt in Ellesméra, but also in their actions during this war. After having put long though into this, I declare a new king of the elves. King Naifel."

Eragon watched as one of the elves that had been on his guard stood and walked to the stage. Arya greeted him first, showing deference to the elf, and then he returned the greeting before addressing the crowd.

"I am honored that Arya Svit-Kona has chosen me as the successor to the elven throne. It is not a decision I make lightly in accepting, but I have no reservations is taking on this responsibility."

Arya stepped forward again. "Later there will be a meeting with the entire elven army, and mirrors have been set up throughout Du Weldenvarden and in the cities for every elf to see the coronation."

Arya took her leave and slipped over to Eragon and Arya. Other elves were approaching Niafel, asking him questions or congratulating him. They mounted Saphira and she took to the air, bringing Nasuada back to her tent where Angela was waiting with barbed words for her patient for staying out so long in the cold. Alia got off as well, telling Eragon she needed to speak with Solumbum, and Saphira brought them to their tents before going off hunting for herself and Wyrda. For a while they talked, discussing whatever came to the front of their mind. Then Niafel was crowned. Eragon did not know the elf as well as he might have, having been with him so long, but he trusted him and knew he would be a good leader. By the end of the day, Eragon was exhausted and fell asleep quickly. For the first time in a while, he slept soundly, the king and the war far from his mind as everything seemed to be right again since the battle for Dras Leona had begun.

**What did you all think? **


	45. The War Plan

**A.N. I apologize for the long wait, but with the end of the school year approaching and AP tests drawing nearer, my priorities become clear. But here it is. The last chapter before the battle. Next time you see an update, the Final Battle will have begun. Read and enjoy!**

Eragon jumped as he heard a movement directly behind him. He spun, his hand going to the hilt of his sword, but there was no cause for worry. It was only Alia. She wound around his ankles several times before sitting down and looking up at him. _The meeting has been scheduled for when the sun reaches its highest point. _The werecat informed him.

He nodded his thanks and then sat down. Alia immediately leapt to curl up on his lap, purring as he scratched her head. _Do you know if Roran is going to be at this meeting?_

_Yes._

Eragon waited for more, but when she was not forthcoming his sighed. _Yes he is coming or yes you know?_

_Both._ She responded, a bit of amusement in her voice. _It will be the last time to make any plans before the battle if they accept your plan._

_I just hope it is a good idea. There is much potential for it to go badly wrong._

_Relax, rider. It is a sound enough plan, and there are fewer ways I can think of this plan going wrong than many of the others that have been offered about. _The werecat glanced up and watched him. _The haunted one wishes to speak with you. _Eragon stared at the werecat in confusion as he tried to understand her meaning. Alia roller her eyes, a habit she had adopted from Angela. _The one you call Marian._

His eyes widened in understanding. Marian was the girl who had been the shade. He gave the white werecat a somewhat amused glance. He supposed 'haunted one' would describe the girl well enough. _Do you know when she wanted to meet?_

_She did not tell the man she was with. I do not believe she knew that heard. Or if she did, she did not understand who I was. Will you go and speak with her?_

_I should. _Eragon said, quietly. _I have not really thought of her since I released her from the spirits that dwelt within her. _Standing up and ignoring the werecat's irritated hiss at his lack of warning, Eragon belted on his sword and walked out of his tent to find where the woman's tent was. Alia merely made a rude remark and then consented to show him the way.

They finally reached a small tent at the outskirts of the Varden. There was a woman and a man talking quietly. Eragon stepped forward. They both turned and surprise came over their expressions. Eragon smiled slightly and addressed the woman. "I was told you wished to speak?" The woman stared at him. Eragon understood her confusion and gestured to the werecat. "Alia overheard on her rounds around the Varden.

The woman nodded, still not speaking. There was really nowhere to talk, and when the her husband stated that their conversation would be best if no one overheard, Eragon led them to a smaller meeting tent and cast the necessary spells to prevent anyone spying on the meeting. Then they sat around the small table. Eragon looked at the woman. "What is it that you wished to speak of?"

There was silence. The woman simply stared at the table in front of her until her husband took her hand gently. Then she swallowed. "I know I was the shade." She said in a soft voice. If Eragon's hearing wasn't as acute as it was, he would have missed her admission. "Nolan already confirmed it." She glanced at her husband. "He told me what you did. I wanted… I wanted to thank you for saving my life." She continued before Eragon could think of a response. "The memories of that time are starting to come back." She finally looked up to meet his eyes and Eragon saw the tormented expression in her eyes. "You should have killed me."

Eragon was silent for a minute. "I feel obligated to tell you that what I did in that battle in releasing the spirits was not a planned move. I simply acted and did not consider the consequences. There was the full possibility that you could have come out of the ordeal insane. When I blocked you memories the next day, I meant for that block not to fade away. It could have been weakened at your desire, but I did not expect this." He paused. "Would you allow me in your mind? If I understand, I may be able to help you."

She hesitated, but then gave a slight nod. Eragon reached out to her mind and felt her defenses lowering. He slipped inside, noticing her husband holding her more closely. As soon as her mind enveloped his, Eragon felt a sense of magic about her thoughts. It was elflike in a way, the magic that seemed to fill her thoughts, but it felt almost more similar to the wild power of a werecat. Eragon considered it for a minute, but was only able to come to one conclusion: her mind did not feel human.

Her thoughts and emotions swirled around him, sometimes drawing him in and others passing him by. From the ones that touched, Eragon could sense her unease and fear at him being in her mind. Trying to keep her privacy as best he could, Eragon found the part of her mind where he had blocked off the memories. He was stunned to find that the magical and mental barrier he had enacted had almost completely eroded away after little more than a week. Eragon withdrew from her mind.

They both watched him silently, waiting for him to speak. Eragon stood. "Give me a minute; I need to think." Eragon paced for a while, aware of the young couple's eyes following his moves with their eyes. Finally he sighed and returned. He looked at the woman. "Could you do any magic before?"

She nodded shakily. "Only the smallest amounts. I was talented at shielding my mind though."

Eragon nodded. "And now? Have you tried anything?"

"I can do a lot more." She whispered. Her husband looked at her sharply, obviously unaware of the fact. The girl was refusing to meet anyone's eyes, shaking slightly. Eragon felt a rush of pity for her. He could not even imagine the overwhelming confusion she had to be feeling.

With a sigh, Eragon waited until she met his eyes. "I don't know how to tell you this, or even if I should, but the structure of your mind has been greatly changed. Have you ever felt the mind of a magical species like the elves or werecats?" She looked down at the table and gave a brief nod. "Your mind has taken on characteristics similar to theirs. I don't know what it will mean for you, but you have a right to know."

There was a silence between them for a few minutes and then the girl looked up. "The reason I wanted to talk to you wasn't simply to thank you." Eragon frowned, waiting for her to continue. "It's hard to make the memories clear, but I remember things from in Uru'baen." She grimaced. "Before… before I was made a shade… I saw you. In Uru'baen. You were his slave."

Eragon stiffened in his chair. "I was." He stated in a flat voice. "He bested me temporarily, but I managed to break free of his plans for me."

She nodded absently. "I was in the room with all the cages where he changes people. I… I heard him discussing his plans. He… he talks to himself sometimes, but he was telling one of the people in one of the cages. None of us were ever meant to get away. We were either forever bound as his slaves or killed, so he wasn't very careful with what he said. The whole city is full of the abominations he created." She swallowed. "I also know that since there were the first rumors of your existence he has been sacrificing people and storing their energy in a huge diamond on Shruikan's saddle. Your chances would be more favorable if you could find a way to separate him from that power source."

"Thank you." Eragon said sincerely. "Any information we can have is tremendously important." He stood. "I have to go to a war meeting. Was there anything further you wished to tell me?"

The couple stood as well. The woman spoke first. "No, that is all." She gave a slight curtsey to him and they left.

Eragon was lost in his thoughts for a while. The girl was an enigma. Nothing like what had happened to her had ever happened to anyone. There was no telling what repercussions would come from her brief time under the control of the spirits. Pushing the matter from his mind, Eragon left to go to the meeting.

He was the last to arrive, but the meeting was not to start for another five minutes. They were not seated yet, but standing around the tent and talking. Alia joined him from wherever she had slipped off to as he passed into the tent. Nasuada was standing off to the side, talking to the newly crowned King Niafel. Though she was still a bit pale form her injury, she was recovering and had regained most of her strength. Eragon walked over to the other side where Saphira's head and neck came through an opening in the side of the tent. He smiled at her and rubbed a spot just above her eye where he knew she liked to be scratched. As she hummed quietly, Arya walked over.

"What is on your mind?" She asked, seeing that Eragon was lost in thought. Saphira opened her eyes to see Eragon, listening.

Eragon gave her a small smile. "I had an idea for attacking Uru'baen. I'm not sure if it would work, but I am going to share it, I think."

"Have you discussed it with anyone yet?" Arya asked, looking as Saphira.

"Saphira knows of course. And I discussed it with Alia. She thinks that is has potential. It's just… the king is smart. He seems to have every possibility planned for." Eragon looked to the east. "I can feel the pull of the oaths he put me under." Eragon said quietly.

Arya took his hand in hers. "Soon this will all be over. You will be released from his control."

Eragon nodded. "I'll be able to fight more in the next battle. Being able to heal myself will allow me to be in the front again. It doesn't feel right trying to stay away from the battle when Saphira and I are capable of so much more."

Before Arya could respond, everyone began to take their seats. Eragon slipped into the chair nearest to Saphira. Arya sat on one side and Nasuada on his other. Alia leapt into his lap and watched all the others. King Naifel performed the privacy spells as it had always fallen to Islanzadí as her job. A silence seemed to fall over the table. Ideas had been bandied about over the last few days, but even with the high, stone walls of the capital within sight, no concrete plan had yet been formed.

"The War Song of the elves." Naifel spoke in a quiet voice. Silence fell once again, and confused glances were thrown about the table. Arya's eyes had widened and she stared at the new leader of the elven nation with something akin to shock. Eragon looked around the room. Of the rest of the people sitting around the table, only he and Grimmr Halfpaw seemed to know what the elf was suggesting. He had come across a writing that had mentioned it in an ancient text while in Ellesméra, but had been unable to discover anything more on the topic.

He rose from his chair, a grim expression on his face. "It is a thing of legend, but it exists. All of the elves know the song, but it has not been sung in over a thousand years. Not since Du Fyrn Skulblaka." He looked over at Arya.

Arya nodded and stood, understanding that he wished for her to take over the explanation. "During Du Fyrn Skulblaka, the elves fought the dragons under the War Song whenever there was a full battle rather than the intermittent skirmishes that popped up. It was… a spell, an ancient spell, as old as the elves themselves. It allowed the elves to fight as one and share their individual power equally among the rest of the elves. It was not a means of gaining power, but of spreading it. An elf facing an easy enemy would draw little, but an elf facing a more powerful foe would be able to draw more power than he would be capable of managing alone. And the energy of any elf killed is dispersed among the whole. It was deemed better to be forgotten because in the second to last battle of Du Fyrn Skulblaka, the leader of the song was killed. Every elf singing the War Song died for the power is centered on the elf leading the song. We lost nearly one thousand elves in an instant." She returned to her seat.

King Naifel nodded. "It is a risk, a great risk, but if this battle is not won, Galbatorix will find the elves and hunt us down. He knows where we are. Even if he had not managed to take Eragon, two of the Forsworn were elves. This battle is the Final Battle. It all ends here whether we win or not."

Nasuada was frowning. "But if whoever leads the song dies, we lose a third of our fighters, and the elves are our greatest strength."

"That is the truth." He said quietly.

Eragon stood then. "I know not what to think of the War Song, but when I was flying on Saphira this morning an idea for the attack came to my mind." He paused, seeing that he had the tent's attention. "We could strike tonight while the darkness blinds men's eyes. It is a new moon; there will be no light other than the stars, and even then the clouds obscure the sky. Of our troops, the elves, the werecats, and the urgals have no trouble seeing in the night. I can see in the dark and the dragons can as well. Galbatorix has an army of men. Men are blind during the night. It would have the effect of surprise. We have already ordered the men to be ready to attack or defend at a moment's notice. If we leave everything but weapons and armor, the army would not have to be told until minutes before we begin to march. There would not be sufficient time for Galbatorix to fully prepare."

He sat and there was silence for a while. Arya spoke. "There is the trouble of the walls."

Naifel looked at her. "The elves could do it." Everyone looked at him. "If we were to use the War Song, if every elf's strength was pooled together, it would be possible."

"Who would lead the song?" Arya asked. "It is a foolish plan. The elf could be killed by mistake or Galbatorix could target them. He would know the legend."

A small smile came on the elf's face. "I thought perhaps you would lead the song." Arya stared. Seeing she had nothing to say at the moment, he continued. "Wyrda will not be able to fight well. He is still weakened from his injuries. I have seen this. And if you led the song from his back, you could flee any danger easier than an elf on foot. I have watched him fly, Arya. Though he is clumsy on land and not as natural a fighter as the other two dragons, he is at home in the air."

Her eyes widened. "You _want _him to target me."

"If we can trick him into bringing the fight to you, it might be possible to defeat him. And if Eragon and Saphira fight him in the air and help protect you, we could have a better chance."

Eragon looked around the room and then took a breath, not sure how the room would take the information he was about to give. "Vanir will not be fighting on Thorn this battle. Murtagh will fight from his own dragon." As expected, chaos reigned. Only Nasuada, Arya, Niafel, and Angela remained calm. "Silence!" Eragon said sharply, and everyone settled, sharply. "If any of you does not trust me, let him speak now." He paused. "No one? I thought so. I trust Murtagh with my life. He was taken to Galbatorix in the same way that I was: by force. He never wished to serve the king and he _bested _me at the battle of the Burning Plains. I did not win. He managed to let me go free as Galbatorix never gave him specific orders to bring me back, only to capture me. He caught me and then released me. Also, since he has been a 'prisoner' of the Varden, he has had no guards and no spells set upon him. He has been free and in my tent. I have allowed him to go flying with his dragon and he has sparred with me to keep in practice. Murtagh is on our side. There is nothing stronger that a bonded pair that has learned to fight as one. No matter how skilled Vanir is, he is no competition for Murtagh on Thorn's back. Now I will hear objections." Though it was obvious no one was happy, there was a long pause before anyone spoke.

Orik stood angrily. "He slaughtered Hrothgar." His voice was cold. "Eragon, you yourself swore in the ancient language to avenge Hrothgar."

"I did." Eragon said calmly. "If an arrow kills a soldier, do you blame the bow and arrow or the person wielding them?"

Seething, Orik sat, realizing he could not win the argument.

"I, for one, think it is a good plan." Everyone turned to look at the herbalist. Angela was casually sitting at the table, seemingly amused by the banter back and forth. "What? I say we use the War Song and Arya and Murtagh as well as attacking tonight with the non-human part of the army. Have there been any better plans?" Silence hung in the air. "Then instead of squabbling, why don't we perfect it so that we _can _attack tonight."

* * *

><p>Three hours later, Eragon stood on a hill beside Arya. Saphira and Wryda stood directly behind them. In front, a crowd of elves, ever one that would fight, stood before them. The sun had dipped below the horizon and with every passing minute, the shadows darkened. Arya stood stock still, watching the sky with unblinking eyes. Tension held her shoulders stiff and her jaw was locked in a determined set that allowed Eragon to see her anxiety. Her position in the war had gone from a spare rider to a target. She was bait.<p>

The stars were barely visible through the cloud cover. Suddenly, Arya took a breath and released it, preparing herself. Then, in the eerie stillness that seemed to be flooding the area, she began to sing. Arya's cool, crystalline voice rose and fell in a quiet melody. It was the only sound in a sea of silence. As Eragon listened, he felt a strange calling, even though he only understood half the words. The elves seemed to feel the call as well. For at that moment one began to respond. An instant later a second did, and then rapidly the elves began to take up the harmony to Arya's song.

Then, once all had joined, Arya gave a sharp nod and Eragon contacted the spellcasters with the urgals and Alia with the werecats. _It is time. _Mounting Saphira and watching Arya mimic him, Eragon followed behind as the elves began to march toward the city. To him their minds felt like they had become parts of a greater thing. It reminded him of a beehive. Each elf an individual, but at the same time part of the whole, and all were willing to die for Arya, their queen bee.

As they neared the wall, a trumpet began to call frantically from high in the air as a guard alerted the city of an attack. Arya sat on Wyrda's back, a hundred feet from the wall and raised one hand. Not breaking the song, she made a fist and as if made of sand, a large section of the wall crumbled.

As the crash from the disappearing wall faded, the resistance drew swords and axes and daggers, preparing to participate one last time in hopes of freeing the lands from the king's rule once and for all. The elves' song grew stronger as they rushed forward. A tremendous bellowing rang out from the urgals and a strange caterwauling came from the werecats. As one, the groups breached the destroyed wall and flooded the city. The first sounds of steel on steel began to reach Eragon's ears and soldiers descended to take place in the fight.

The final battle had finally begun.

**Leave a review to tell me what you thought. Thanks.**


	46. The Final Battle: Part One

**There is no excuse for my long absence from my story, and many of you might have assumed me dead or something. However, I promised never to abandon a story and this one is quickly nearing the end. Enjoy the chapter!**

Everything seemed to be moving too in slow motion for a long moment as the confusion of the city met with the organized troops of the resistance. Men and women screamed. Metal clashed with metal. And the song continued, its notes echoing eerily throughout the streets of the city. The dragons had risen to take their place in the sky, gliding effortlessly above the battle, too large to safely fight within the narrow city streets. And at the moment, Galbatorix's army was in disarray, startled by the sudden attack.

_Eragon, the archers are out on the wall. _Saphira said suddenly, dipping closer to get a better look at the city walls where a large number of men had managed to gather, some still wearing nightclothes or dressed haphazardly but still bearing weapons, woken from their sleep and their families by the call to battle. They were beginning to shoot, even without being able to see, simply firing into the attacking masses below.

_That should be easy enough. _Eragon responded, knowing the men were almost entirely incapalbe of seeing in the darkness. Eragon relayed what they had seen to Murtagh and Arya. Arya gave a slight headshake, leaving the archers to them so that she could better concentrate on the complex melody she was singing. _I'll take the northern end of the city. _Eragon said. Without waiting for Murtagh to reply, Saphira turned to the north and slowly began to descend.

Not one archer noticed their nearing presence. Eragon shuddered, upset at the way they were going to attack the men defending the walls. It was like the Ra'zaac, striking in the dark and leaving their prey no advantage to help them escape. The men would all perish, the attack to sudden for some to even comprehend before waking up in the Void, never again to see their family or their home and beyond reach of everything they had ever known. Giving a comforting hum to her rider's distress, Saphira descended stealthily on the wall, focused on her mission.

From across the city, screams began to echo through the cool air. Terrified shouts followed and Eragon knew that Murtagh had not hesitated to attack as he had. Saphira dove suddenly, taking her cue from Thorn's actions to attack. The last bit of space between her and the archers disappeared in the time it took Eragon to realize she was attacking. Saphira mercilessly passed through the archers, ravaging them with her dagger-like claws and teeth. Then, as the men were still reeling in frenzied confusion at the sudden, brutal attack, Saphira returned to take out the survivors. Within minutes, the archer-lined walls of the city held only death. Murtagh and Thorn had already returned to the sky, their task complete. Eragon and Saphira joined them. Waiting. Simply waiting for the true battle to begin.

Throughout the city, the humans tried to make up for their extreme disadvantage, lighting lamps and torches to shed light on the bloodbath in the streets below. Unwilling to allow the enemy this small concession, the dragons dove sporadically as the lights were lit, destroying whatever the citizens and soldiers managed to light. Below on the streets, the men rushed about in blindness, moving towards the lights only to be slaughtered by advancing groups of elves, urgals, and werecats, striking from the shadows. Slowly they worked their way toward the castle in the middle of the city.

Another trumpet sounded above the noise of the battle with a shrill, piercing note. From high above, Eragon saw the castle gates open, and like water escaping floodgates, a deluge of men poured from within to join the battle. Eragon's eyes followed one man's progress toward the elves. His speed was unmatched, and he bounded with effortless ease. He felt his stomach roll within as he realized all the newcomers to the battle were Galbatorix's creations, his mutant army. As Saphira once more drifted close to Murtagh and Thorn, Eragon knew that they too had noticed that the mutants had joined the fight. Murtagh's expression was fixed in a severe scowl. Thorn had raised his head to let loose a tremendous bellow that caused Eragon to wince at its volume.

_Arya. _Eragon reached out toward the elf's mind and paused in shock as he felt the strange network that seemed to overlay her mind, connecting her to every single elf that was also singing the song. Shaking off the strange feeling, Eragon continued. _Galbatorix's pet creations are about to enter the battle. They will be dangerous. _She nodded briefly in thanks before relaying his message to the singing elves.

It was time, Eragon decided as he watched the elves and the mutant creations of the king meet. It was time to free the city of whatever nameslaves Galbatorix had created within the city. Granted, many would still fight, but it was at least a small advantage over the king. Eragon extended a tendril of thought to the eldunarí he had with him. _I want to release all the nameslaves now. Will you aid me?_

Eragon felt righteous anger and a want for vengeance swell up from all of the eldunarí at his mention of nameslaves and did not need any further answer. Melding his strength with theirs, Eragon descended closer to the city and gave volume to his voice, speaking loudly the True Name of the Ancient Language and commanding it to release from under its influence all those who had been bound by their true names to serve any will but their own.

The sudden drain on his energy was more massive than he had been expecting. Gritting his teeth against a sudden wave of exhaustion, Eragon accepted a generous boost of strength from the eldunarí and finished the spell, worrying as he considered the huge amount of energy that the king was sure to have at his disposal and doubting once again his ability to end the war. No matter the outcome of the battle in the city below, in the end it would be up to Eragon.

As Eragon felt himself being released from the bindings the king had placed on him through his true name, it was as if he had suddenly lost countless manacles and chains. After so long of having been a slave, the sudden overwhelming feeling of freedom threw Eragon into a wave of shock and emotion. He had almost forgotten how oppressive and restricting the constant weight of the oaths was as he had learned to bear the burden. But now he was free. Free from the king's command. Eragon returned his attention to the battle with newfound determination. Anyone who could force another being to be subjugated in their very thoughts and who killed and tortured with such unaffected maliciousness as Galbatorix did had no place among the living. Death was a kindness he did not deserve, but Eragon knew that death was the only way he could be truly defeated. The evil king's reign would finally be terminated. No matter the cost, Eragon would see to that.

His eyes flicked downward to see a bloody struggle between Galbatorix's altered fighters and the forces of the resistance. It was back and forth and neither side had the advantage. The only thing left to do currently was to wait. He needed to save his energy until the king appeared. Then he would need everything that he had. Eragon would bide his time.

Down in the city streets, the battle raged on, bloody and violent under the stars in the dark of the night. But despite there being no light, those attacking the king could see clearly. Vanir suddenly leapt backwards with a grace known only to the most trained of elven swordsmen. If he had moved any slower his life would have been lost and his attacker would have left victorious. Despite Vanir's escape on the blade, his opponent continued to advance, unfazed by the battle and unaffected by the death surrounding him. His eyes were filled with anger and hate and were vacant of thought, but he looked like a man. The assumption that he was simply a man as he seemed to be had nearly cost Vanir his life when he had begun to fight the abomination he was currently facing. The man moved with a speed unmatched even by elves and struck with a force that rivaled the dragons.

"Come back here, little elf." The man growled, launching a dagger toward Vanir, forcing him to dive to the side to avoid being impaled. "I thought elves were supposed to be strong, yet you dance instead of fight." His voice was gravely and hoarse, and a touch of insanity seemed to lurk within.

Vanir did not respond to the insults, continuing instead the song as if he were not in the middle of an increasingly bloody battle. The elf fighting to his left fell, her chest laid open by an enemy she had left for dead. The killer was laughing at the elf, blood pouring from his eyes and mouth, trailing down his face. The right half of his body was smashed in, yet he stood. Laughing.

"What is so important about your song, elf? All the elves sing their pretty song. I should make you stop, I should." The man suddenly leapt forward, holding his sword before him. He feinted toward Vanir's head before changing to slip his sword deeply into Vanir's stomach.

Pain and anger filling the elf's mind to the exclusion of all else, Vanir prepared himself to go in for the kill. The _man _had just beheaded one elf and was about to stab another as they came to his aid. Drawing on the enormous force of energy available to him, Vanir gave himself a cursory healing of his wound and then increased his speed to match the speed of the abomination.

Even as he reached the man, the man spun, meeting his strike with enough strength to push Vanir back several feet. Using magic to strengthen himself as well as to quicken his movements, Vanir met the man's sword with equal power. Eying each other for the briefest moment from across their crossed swords, a duel began. Even Vanir had to acknowledge that the man had skill. But he had trained for over a hundred years in the art of sword fighting. The advantage of speed and strength neutralized, it was not long before his sword was impaled in the man's chest.

Vanir kicked the body off his sword and let it fall to the ground. Not willing to risk the man's return as the painless ones always seemed to do, Vanir stepped closer to the body once more and removed the head. Releasing his drag on the magic held together by the elves' song, his current task finished, Vanir went to help an elf that was struggling to fight in a crowd of mutant soldiers.

Suddenly smoke began to pour from the next street. Just as he was about to go investigate, the answer to the sudden fire became known to him. A soldier on the roof of the building poured a bucket of oil down the side of the building, letting it pool in the streets before he held a torch to it, setting half the building and part of the street on fire. Vanir backed up quickly, the heat of the oil fire uncomfortable. Horrified, he observed one of the abominations walk through the flames, catching fire as he advanced but ignoring the scorching flames entirely.

Arya's voice suddenly sounded in his mind, forming a spell to protect those fighting in the flaming streets from being burned by the spreading fire.

Eragon frowned as he noted that half the city was on fire. The elves were fine; Arya had cast a spell over them to protect them from the fire. The werecats had simply escaped to a different part of the city, leaping from roof to roof to avoid the burning flames. The urgals, however, were not as lucky. Eragon had received a distressed call for help by the magician who stood at Nar Garzhvog 's side.

Saphira went into a steep dive, angling towards the urgals' side of the battle. Eragon could not believe the level of depravity that the king had fallen to. It mattered not to him how many innocents were killed in the city's defense so long as somehow it benefitted him. Women and children screamed as flames trapped them in their houses or were chased into the battle by the fires.

_Let me down on the roof. I can get to them from there. _Eragon said, eying the drop from the roofs to the ground. Saphira dipped her head once in acknowledgement before making a slow pass over the roofs. Eragon waited and then leapt, rolling as he landed on one of the few buildings that was not burning. Using magic on himself to prevent himself from getting burnt, Eragon leapt ten feet down into the midst of the trapped urgals. On one side, Galbatorix's troops blocked them and on the other, tall fires kept them from retreating.

"Firesword." Nar Garzhvog greeted, a gash down his cheek but otherwise uninjured. "I am glad you came."

Eragon looked around and grimaced. Every second, more urgals were taken by the flames with no room to move. "Tell me." He said, extinguishing part of the fire that was killing the urgals. "If your magicians had the energy needed, could they save your troops?"

"Yes, but we have not the means."

Eragon considered his options, but knew he could not deny the urgals. They too were fighting the king, and he would not sacrifice their lives. "Here." He said, pressing Aren into the urgal leader's hand . "It should hold enough energy to protect your men from the fire and perhaps a bit more. Just… It is one of the few things I have left that belong to my father. So…"

"I will make sure it is returned to you after the battle. May you be victorious, Firesword." The urgal said, a small smile on his face as he handed the ring to his personal magician. The magician immediately began to mutter words in the Ancient Language under his breath. Then, he quit. The urgals were no longer being burnt by the flames. They reentered the battle with renewed vigor.

Eragon called for Saphira to return. As she passed low over the fighters, she swept her tail down. Eragon grabbed on and clibmed, using her spikes as a ladder to reach the saddle even as she flapped once again to a height high above the battle. Then, it seemed as if a silence descended over the city. A large shadowy shape had risen from the castle. Flying upwards toward them, the king had finally entered the battle.

**Don't forget to leave a review. Part two of the final battle is coming soon!**


	47. The Final Battle: Part Two

**There is no excuse, but I am still alive, and this chapter is my proof.**

Eragon's stomach suddenly felt like lead. The giant black form of Shruikan beat its way up to the level of the others quickly like a shadow, his massive wingspan nearly larger than that of the three younger dragons combined. Stunning Eragon out of his stupor, Saphira let loose a tremendous roar at the traitor rider and his mount, a call that was quickly echoed by Thorn and Wyrda.

The king laughed, speaking a spell to make his voice louder in order that it might be heard by everyone in the city and in the surrounding area. "So, Eragon." He spoke, pausing as Shruikan reached the altitude of Thorn and Saphira. "Not only have you somehow managed to free my slaves, you also have Murtagh fighting for you along with Thorn. I had assumed he somehow shook my control in the same manner as his dragon had, but now I find that you must have done it by yourself. Clever. You would surely have been an asset to my kingdom if you had stayed. I would have given you power, power beyond anything you have ever known. Nevertheless, you will not be difficult to defeat. You are as weak as a newborn lamb compared to me, and your dragon is yet a hatchling. Did you truly believe that three fledgling dragons and their inexperienced riders could possibly defeat the greatest rider of all time? A rider and dragon who have lived and ruled for more than a century?"

Wondering what the king was up to, Saphira continued to circle, trying to gain the advantage of height as the king and his dragon glided effortlessly, however, she made no move to attack, unwilling to dive lest she fall into an unseen trap. Thorn joined Saphira, and Wyrda took Arya well above them all, out of the king's current reach. The king made no effort to stop them.

"You are not the greatest rider." Eragon responded, watching for any reaction from the king. "Not even your followers serve you out of devotion, and instead of keeping the peace of Alagaesia, as is a rider's duty, you have caused pain and destruction. You have killed both riders and dragons. A rider is meant to keep balance between the peoples and prevent war, not destroy for one's own personal gain."

The king laughed, genuinely amused at Eragon's speech. "You are a young fool, Eragon. You would put limits on our power then? Why should I cap my power and only shepherd those weaker than myself as you would have us do? We are capable of so much more. Fear does not hold me back from seeking new heights of power. And it's a true shame you were too blinded to understand my way of thinking. Murtagh did."

Eragon glanced over to see his half-brother stiffen and glare at the king. The red rider was silent, and the king smiled cruelly, his lips curling as he watched Murtagh's reaction. Eragon responded, for Murtagh was either too ashamed or too angry to answer for himself. "All make mistakes. It is how we continue on which defines us. Murtagh has chosen to defend freedom and help put an end to your rule. Whatever may have happened before makes no difference anymore."

With a suddenness that took even Eragon by surprise, Thorn tucked one of his wings and bulleted down toward the larger black dragon, rolling as he attempted to sink his talons into the elder dragon's flank. Shruikan was forced to dive a short distance to avoid him, but Thorn still managed to strike a glancing blow on him. Flipping sideways to avoid Shruikan's retaliatory strike, Thorn fought to regain his lost height even as Shruikan did. The first move being made, Eragon directed Saphira to attack, rechecking the straps securing him to the saddle as he did. _Now. _Eragon commanded as he saw a minute mistake in the king's defense. He was still focused on Thorn, looking for an opening to attack instead of remaining on the defensive. Saphira did not hesitate, lunging to take a strike at the king. At the last instant, Eragon realized the trap. _Abandon it, Saphira!_ He shouted mentally, even as she responded on her own, having realized the ploy at the same time. He had seen them even without looking. There had been some sort of magic allowing him to see behind him. The king's sword slashed through the air only a foot away from Saphira's right wing, exactly where Eragon whould have been if they had remained a moment longer..

As they spiraled away from the king, Eragon prepared himself to use magic. In order for them to be able to defeat the king, the king's wards would need to be removed. If they didn't it was highly unlikely that the three opponents of the king would manage to land even one blow that could damage the midnight armor of the massive dragon. Eragon began to chant the name of the ancient language, trusting Thorn to protect him as he worked and calling upon the power of the eldunarí to supply energy to him. As the energy poured into him from the cache of eldunarí in Saphira's saddlebags, Eragon began to shape a spell, using the name of the ancient language to counter all wards and spells the king was using or had used in the fight that had been moulded by the words of the Ancient Language.

He smiled grimly, knowing it was a success when an infuriated roar tore from the throat of the king and his dragon at exactly the same instant. Galbatorix spun Shruikan to face Eragon in the air. "What have you done, fool?" He demanded, and then his eyes narrowed. "You know the name, boy, don't you?"

"I do." Eragon admitted, knowing there was no point in keeping the fact secret. The Name was protected by the Grey Folk. Eragon spoke again as an idea hit him. "It is thanks to you that I know it at all, you see. When I was running from your captivity I stumbled across the Vault of Souls. The remaining Grey Folk gave me the power to defeat you."

At his words, a wary expression came across the king's face, but also one of greed. Eragon had learned several things about the king during his imprisonment, and one of those was that any threat to the king's power or the hope of increased power would not be allowed to slip past the king without him attempting to seize it. Hopefully, if Eragon failed to win, the king would go in search of the Grey Folk, for Eragon knew that despite Galbatorix's power, the king was no match for the ancient beings that he had come across in the Vault of Souls.

Galbatorix was frowning. "I can rip the knowledge from your mind or from your dragon's mind once I have defeated you." The king grinned. "So you have taken away my ability to perform spoken magic. No matter." With a claw like twist of his hand, the king laughed. A hundred feet above them, Wyrda let out a pain filled shriek and began to plummet, throwing Arya from his back. The wards surrounding the small dragon had only deflected part of the spell, not able to witshtand the brute force of the king's attack. The king's spell, intended to rip Wyrda's wings from his body, had not succeeded, but had still managed to break the wings badly, leaving the emerald dragon with no hope of remaining in the air.

Wyrda and Arya fell in an uncontrolled freefall past Eragon and Saphira. In a shared glance, Murtagh and Eragon deceided what they would do. Without warning, Thorn flew at Shruikan, sinking his claws into the black dragon's tail and eliciting a rumbling snarl as the dragon spun. Safe from the king for the moment, Saphira immediately slipped into a dive, spinning as she entered a freefall. She passed Arya, barely allowing Eragon enough time to grab the elf's arm and pull her behind him. Shaking and pale, Arya wrapped her arms around Eragon's waist in a bruising hold, her cheek pressed into the center of his back as she dutifully kept up the song. The distance was closing fast between Saphira and the emerald dragon as she kept her wings pinned against her sides. A quick glance assured Eragon that while Shruikan was trying to follow, Thorn was keeping him from responding very quickly by harrying the black dragon.

As Saphira reached Wyrda, she flared her wings, sinking her long talons into the muscles of the smaller dragon's shoulders. As she flapped her wings to slow their fall, Wyrda screamed, long gashes tearing into his skin and flesh, bleeding profusely. Arya was shaking even worse now, but didn't otherwise react or move, knowing that the fate of nearly the entire elven population depended on her continuation of the song. They slowed, but not fast enough. Thirty feet from the ground, Saphira was forced to drop Wyrda, allowing the young dragon slam heavily into the ground and roll to a stop in order that she could land without serious injury. As it was, Saphira let out a pained as her leg twisted under the force of impact, straining he muscle.

Eragon leapt from her back immediately, landing on the ground and running over to where Wyrda had landed. Arya slid off and followed without a word. As Eragon arrived, Wyrda lifted his head and struggled onto his belly, taking the weight off of his broken bones. Doing a cursory healing job so that the little dragon wouldn't bleed to death, Eragon put his hand on Wyrda's nose. _I am sorry, Wyrda. We do not have time._

_I understand. _Wyrda said, the pain in his voice tempered by understanding. He turned to nuzzle his rider affectionately as she began to trace the scars that laced his nose from the previous battle. _Fight well. _He told Arya before Eragon cast a spell to dull his pain, unwilling to take away the dragon's last defense by putting him to sleep.

_ERAGON! _Murtagh suddenly shouted in voice and in mind, giving them just enough time to look up before Thorn slammed into Shruikan's side with a resounding crash as the dragon dove toward them, knocking the black dragon off course. Thorn landed heavily, limping as he ran forward several feet, not using his front left foot at all. As the red dragon approached him, Eragon winced. The leg was mangled badly from around the knee downward. Deep teeth marks could easily be seen around the majority of the limb, leading Eragon's mind to imagine it could have been similar to the wound Glaedr had received. He looked exhausted from detaining the king for several minutes.

Shruikan landed easily several hundred feet away on top of a small hill. Then the king and his dragon stood still, seeming willing to wait. Eragon frowned at the obvious tactical advantage that being uphill would give the king in fighting before examining Thorn's leg more closely. He winced in sympathy as he looked on it. Murtagh leapt to the ground, resting his hand on Thorn's side. "He can fight no longer, Eragon."

Thorn let out an angry snarl. _I can fight. _

Watching the dragon for a moment longer, Eragon shook his head. "You are exhausted and injured, Thorn. A land battle cannot be won with an injury like yours. Take Arya up into the air. Keep near us, but out of reach of the king. Arya is a huge target. We need her in the air, and Wyrda is incapacitated." The red dragon nodded his head, waiting for Arya to mount and strap herself in before awkwardly taking to the air even as Saphira charged with Murtagh and Eragon alongside her. In seconds they reached the king, and the determining part of the battle began.

**I decided to cut it off here so that I could have at least part posted after my inexcusable absence. The final part of the battle should be coming soon.**


	48. The Final Battle: Part Three

**Sorry for amount of time it took me to get back to this, but for those of you who waited, here it is.**

Eragon took a deep breath as he met the king's eyes. Galbatorix was standing on the top of the hill, seeming very confident in his victory. As Eragon, Saphira, and Murtagh neared, he spoke. "So far you have lost two of your dragons, and one of your riders is not able to enter this fight. Surely you see how outclassed you are. I would ask if you are ready to give up, but I know you never will. You were always an optimistic fool."

Ignoring the king's taunting comments, Eragon kept up his defenses. He did not allow the king to see him look toward the saddle Shruikan wore, but he tentatively reached out his mind toward it. For the first time since the battle had begun, some luck had fallen his way. The king and dragon were shielding their minds. They did not feel Eragon's questing probe. Eragon felt the massive power stored in the gem on the black dragon's saddle and almost gasped. If the king used it, there was no hope for them. The king was toying with them. Fortunately, the king had not seemed to realize that when Eragon had taken down his wards, the gem was left unprotected. There was nothing stopping Eragon from stealing its energy. He funneled it into himself and Saphira and then into Murtagh. Thankfully the other rider did not react. The king had yet to notice, and Eragon knew that it was in part to the fact that the king did not know Eragon knew of the gem.

"Eragon, you do not really know your brother, do you. Do you want to know his true name? Do you want to know who you are really fighting alongside?" Eragon saw Murtagh flinch, and his eyes were fearful. "You have thought highly of him—you thought he only served me because he was forced, but that is not true."

Murtagh was clearly getting uncomfortable, but a slight shake of the head from Eragon kept him from reacting. The diamond was slowly draining. None of them could safely take more, so Eragon had begun to send the energy up toward Arya, ignoring the massive amount of energy that was lost as t was transferred.

"Whatever Murtagh did before is of no matter to me now." Eragon said to the king.

Eragon felt a sudden touch on his mind and then the king's eyes widened in fury as he realized what Eragon had been doing. Eragon felt the full force of the king's mind slam into his shields, and knew he should withdraw, but for the moment he had control over the diamond. He felt the king grapple for control of the gem's energy and gasped as he was forced away. He had become much better at protecting his own mind, but was not nearly proficient enough to hope to enter Galbatorix's mind. The king got a hold on the diamond, and a tug-of-war began, pulling at the energy in the diamond. Saphira and Murtagh decided to attack to while the king was distracted and to make it easier for Eragon to fight the king.

Closing his mind to everything else, and trusting the others to protect him, Eragon put everything into his battle with the king. He ignored the flash of pain in his shoulder as Saphira took an injury. The strain on the diamond was growing stronger every second, pulsing as if it were alive. Too late, both Eragon and the king realized the danger of what they were doing. With a sudden flash of light, the diamond burst, sending shards of sharp crystal as well as a massive fireball raging outward in all directions. The shock-wave of the explosion sent Eragon flying backward. He lay on the ground, stunned, but forced himself to his feet as soon as he was able.

Looking around, he saw Saphira climb to her feet and shake herself. She didn't seem to have taken any major injuries, though her hide was burnt and stained with blood. Murtagh had not fared as well. Closer to the blast than Eragon had been yet without the protection of shield-like dragon scales, he lay on the ground where he had been thrown some distance away, bleeding and unmoving. There was no time to help him. The king seemed to have escaped the worst of the blast, shielded by his dragon, but Shruikan looked worse for the wear—the diamond had been in his saddle. He was clearly burnt and pierced by shards, but he got to his feet all the same, an angry growl rumbling from his throat.

"You will pay for that." The king spat. Galbatorix was unable to heal his dragon—the healing magic too dangerous to try without words. Eragon picked up his sword from where it had fallen and walked over toward the king.

"This ends now. You have ruled as the tyrant of this land for far too long, but no more." With elven speed, Eragon leaped forward, engaging the king with his sword as Saphira drew Shruikan into a battle of her own. Despite the fact that all spells were off, it was clear that the king was not defenseless. He was stronger and faster than any human fighter. Their swords met time and time again, but neither could gain the advantage. Evenly matched, the king's experience was offset by Eragon's skill. Eragon heard Shruikan cry out in pain—followed by a trumpeting roar from Saphira. Saphira had landed a blow in her fight, but Eragon did not dare take his eyes off the king.

The sun was rising, yet the battle raged on both inside the city and between the riders and dragons. Eragon could feel his energy slowly draining. The king did not look tired, but whether that was true or a bluff Eragon did not know. Either way, it was taking more and more effort to block the king's attacks. He knew that Saphira was tiring as well. Though much slower, Shruikan possessed much more power than Saphira did. Both dragons were bloodied and torn by the attacks of the other.

Eragon spun away as the king lunged at him once more. The edge of the sword caught Eragon's arm as he turned, slicing through the skin to the bone. Unable to heal himself in the midst of the battle, Eragon was forced to transfer the sword to his left hand, knowing as he did so that it was putting him at a great disadvantage. Knowing it would not matter how well he preserved his energy if he did not end the battle soon, Eragon whispered the name of his sword and watched as it burst into flames. The king's eyes narrowed. Not wasting a second, Eragon advanced. The following fight was even more frenzied and vicious than before, but Eragon could feel the king forcing him backwards. With his left hand, he was not a match for the king. Galbatorix seemed to realize this as well, for he pressed even harder.

Then an opportunity arose. Eragon had no time to consider the consequences as he acted. The king was going for a low shot with his sword, forcing Eragon to guard. Knowing this might be his only chance, Eragon did what the king did not expect and did not protect himself, letting the sword pierce his stomach. If he had not already started his attack, Eragon would have faltered, but his sword was already moving towards the kings ribs. There was nothing the king could do but futilely try to back up as the sword sunk into his chest, getting stuck in his ribs. As they both fell to the ground, Eragon released his blade.

"Brisingr!" He shouted, and the blade—already in flames—intensified in heat, consuming the king in fire. The king's screams echoed over the fields, but then there was silence. In the moment of shock following the king's death, Saphira took advantage of Shruikan's momentary stupor to leap up and sink her teeth into the black dragon's neck, behind his skull. With a roar, Shruikan shook his head, trying to dislodge the much smaller dragon, but Saphira clung on, sinking her teeth deeper and deeper. Blood poured from Shruikan's neck as the dragon roared, still fighting for a minute longer though he had already lost. As the blood continued to flow from the dragon's neck, Shruikan stumbled and then fell, collapsing to the ground in death.

Saphira stumbled as quickly as she could to her rider's side. Eragon smiled, raising his hand to touch Saphira's nose. He was too dazed from his wounds to heal himself—though his blood was quickly being soaked into the ground. Raising her head, Saphira trumpeted a call for help into the sky even as her rider descended into unconsciousness.

**This story is almost finished, but there will be at least two more chapters (maybe more) before it is over for good. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this chapter.**


	49. After the Battle

**A.N. I still do this for the reviewers who land on multiples of a hundred so... this chapter is dedicated to ShinyCrobat. Enjoy!**

Eragon woke, groaning as pain in his stomach assaulted him relentlessly. Hovering above him was Arya's face—full of concern but also holding great joy. Everything came back to him at once and he turned his head to the side for confirmation. Everything seemed like a dream, but his eyes assured him that what he believed was true.. The king was dead, his body nothing more than a charred mass on the ground—mighty no more. Eragon saw blue flames dancing over by where the king's remains laid and canceled the energy sustaining the flames. The fire died and his sword stopped burning. Blinking blearily, he turned back to look up at Arya. She was still keeping up the song, but he had to strain to hear it. He wasn't able to focus on her voice. It sounded far away, beyond his reach. Her hands were pressed over his stomach. Looking down, he saw that a bloody sword lying beside him—the sword Galbatorix had run through him. Arya's hands were stained with his blood. Her eyes closed in concentration, and Eragon gasped as pain erupted in him and his entire body felt like it was on pins and needles. The agony in his stomach dulled, but did not go away. Arya was watching him. _Eragon_. Her voice spoke into his mind as she continued the song. He looked at her. _Eragon, focus._ He felt energy pour into him and everything became slightly clearer. He moved his hand to feel where the sword had gone into his stomach. The skin was healed, but by the pain he knew it was not entirely healed. _Eragon. _Arya's voice repeated again, sounding insistent.

He groaned and pushed himself up. Arya looked as if she were about to try and stop him, but withdrew and offered her hand to help him instead. He took it gratefully. "How are the others?" He asked. The look on her face told him that she had no idea. He tried to stand, but needed Arya's help again to get up. Before she released his hand, Arya hugged him lightly. Once she had released him, Saphira nudged his side. He smiled at her and tenderly traced a bloody gash across her cheek. She was injured, but nothing bad enough that justified ignoring the others in order to tend to her first. Eragon stumbled over to where Murtagh laid on the ground—with Thorn standing guard over his rider—and fell to his knees beside his brother, reaching out with his mind. It was dim, but there was still a spark of life in the fallen rider. Thorn backed away a few steps to give him room, a nervous growl rumbling in the back of his throat. Saphira nosed the ruby dragon lightly and said something that Eragon could not hear. It seemed to give Thorn some comfort. He laid down, stretching his neck out to curl protectively around where Murtagh lay on the snowy ground. Eragon prepared himself to cast, reaching out to Saphira, but Arya shook her head.

_Let me do it, Eragon. You are in no state to help anyone. If you made a mistake...it could mean his life._ Recognizing the truth of her statement, Eragon sat back as Arya used magic over Murtagh's wounds. After several minutes, she turned to him with a frown. _I don't know what to do. _Her admission was barely a whisper in his mind. _I've never seen injuries like this before._ Her hand rested on his forehead and Eragon knew she was channeling energy into Murtagh. They stood again. There was nothing more that they could do at the moment, and they had not yet checked on Wyrda's condition. Eragon looked to Thorn briefly. The dragon's injuries were more severe than Saphira's were, but he could see that Arya had already patched up the worst so that he wouldn't bleed to death.

_Go._ Thorn spoke to their minds. _I will keep watch over my rider and tell you if anything changes. Go and help the little one._

Not waiting one moment longer, Eragon and Arya made their way over to the smaller, emerald dragon. When Arya reached Wyrda, she stumbled over the words of the song. There was a pulse of energy that felt almost chaotic before she recovered the melody, her eyes wide with horror at what she had almost done. Eragon reached her side several seconds later and wrapped his arm around her waist, trying to provide some comfort. Wyrda looked awful. His wings were twisted in a mangled, bloody, mess, and his eyes were dim as he regarded them through terrible pain. Arya had not yet acted, simply staring at her dragon, unable to get over the shock of seeing her dragon so broken. Wyrda raised his head slightly, and Eragon realized that he must have said something to Arya, because she stumbled forward to begin healing him. When she paused, unable to do any more, Eragon spoke.

"Is the battle in the city over yet?"

She shook her head. _It still goes on._

Eragon nodded once and turned to Saphira. She was standing behind him, her head close to his back—as if to catch him if he fell. "Are you fit to fly?" She stretched her wings and beat them once experimentally before crouching to make it easier for him to mount.

_Eragon, you are in no condition to fight. _Arya said with a frown.

Smiling slightly, he spoke. "I know I would not be able to. I don't plan on fighting anyone, but I have to go to the city. They might not know that the king is dead, so I am going to tell them. The rest of the king's soldiers might surrender—they at least need to be given the chance." Painfully pulling himself into Saphira's saddle, Eragon gritted his teeth as she lifted them into the air with powerful beats of her wings. As graceful as she was, each movement jarred him, and his injury flared in pain. Above the city, Saphira trumpeted victoriously, her call going out in every direction. Magnifying his voice, Eragon spoke as soon as the echoes from Saphira's cries died away.

"King Galbatorix and Shruikan are defeated. They are dead." There were joyous calls from the Varden and it's allies rising to them in the sky. "Any ally of the king still fighting, I bid you surrender. You cannot win. The battle is already lost. Surrender and be shown mercy." There was chaos in the city below, but he knew that many of the kings troops were beginning to surrender. Saphira landed by the city gates. It was only a few minutes before a large group had gathered around them. Nasuada arrived and ushered away most of the people trying to crowd them. Eragon slid off Saphira's back and landed on the ground. His knees buckled, but Nasuada had already stepped forward and caught him. She helped him regain his feet with a worried expression on her face.

"How badly injured are you? And how are the others?"

Eragon let go of her arm, opting to lean against Saphira instead. He was about to speak when he saw Naifel, the new king of the elves, approaching. He waited for the elf to arrive before beginning. "I was run through the stomach, but I should be fine in time. It will need to be healed more than it is now, but..." He shook his head and stopped. He was rambling—his mind still felt fuzzy. "Galbatorix and Shruikan are dead. Saphira is fine. Thorn was injured, but his injuries are not life threatening. Murtagh's might be. We...we don't really know. Wyrda is badly injured. When I left, Arya was with him. I don't really know how bad it is. Arya is uninjured."

He started as he felt Nasuada's hand grab his arm. She smiled at him and then stepped forward and hugged him. Surprised at the unexpected gesture, Eragon returned the embrace. Nasuada stepped back. "You did it. It is over." Her smile grew wider. "I never thought...it didn't seem that we could ever have won, but...it's over." She sounded overwhelmed by the idea, and her eyes were moist. With an embarrassed smile, she wiped them and then grinned.

Naifel was smiling as well, but there was concern in his eyes still. "The battle is over, but why has Arya not stopped the song?"

Eragon looked back toward the hill where the battle had been fought despite the fact that he couldn't see it from where he was. He turned back to the king. "She must need the energy to heal Wyrda. I need to return. I should be there." Before he moved, Eragon felt something brush his leg and looked down to see Alia—bloodstained but whole—looking up at him. He turned and Saphira knelt. Eragon ignored the pain and settled into her saddle. Alia leaped into his lap.

_I am glad that you survived, rider_. Her teeth were bared at him in a feline smile. _I suppose I should refer to you as Eragon now. If killing the king isn't enough to earn your name, then nothing is._

With a laugh, Eragon petted her and smiled as she purred, digging her claws in slightly as she prepared for flight. Saphira took to the air, quickly returning to the hill. She landed as gently as possible beside where Arya and Wyrda were. When Eragon turned to dismount, she offered her head to slowly lower him to the ground. Eragon went to Arya's side. There were tears on her face. "Arya?" He wrapped his arm around her.

_There is so much. So much that I cannot do for him. So much that needs to be done._ She responded. She took a breath and the tune of the song changed. Then she stopped, and almost fell. Eragon steadied her, watching in concern as the last notes and magic of the song faded from the air. "I cannot do anything more for him right now." She whispered. "I cannot endanger all the elves for his sake by overdrawing their energy." She turned, hugging him tightly, her breath coming in short gasps. _What if...what if I can't save him?_ She asked, unable to voice her worst fear.

Tightening his arms around Arya,Eragon looked at Wyrda sadly. The young dragon had suffered so much. Even in this battle where he had been put in a position that was supposed to be safe for him he had yet again ended up the most injured of the dragons. The young dragon's wings no longer looked as mangled as before, but it was clear he was far from healed. "We will all do everything we can to help him." Eragon said. "He is strong."

Arya released him and sat beside Wyrda's head, gently rubbing the unconscious dragon's scales. Eragon turned to go check on Murtagh once more when a voice interrupted him.

_Vanilor?_ He responded, wondering why the dragon had spoken to him then.

_There is something you must do. I can feel the eldunari in Shruikan's saddle crying out. Go to them._

In the chaos, he had forgotten about the eldunari that Galbatorix had carried. He went to the saddle of the slain dragon, and a terrible thought struck him. Vanilor had said that he could hear them, but had any been injured and killed in the blast? The explosion had been so powerful that Eragon grew worried as his fingers fumbled at the straps of the black dragon's saddle He found a pouch on the side and opened it. He was immediately overwhelmed by the voices of many dragons calling out.

_Silence! _Vanilor's voice cut through all of them. The voices went still. _The king is dead, and you are free, but I ask if you will lend this rider your strength. The battle was bloody and many are injured._

There was a long silence before one voice, older and deeper than even Vanilor's spoke up. _I speak for all of us here. We will not pledge ourselves to a rider we do not know. _Eragon felt the hope that had grown in him dim. _But, if he will allow me to examine his intentions, we may choose to give aid._

Eragon immediately agreed, having no reason to fear, and then gasped as he felt the presence of the eldunari which had spoken. It was massive and overwhelming. Even if he had wanted to force the dragon from his mind, he knew that he wouldn't have been able to. The ancient dragon sifted carefully through his memories, starting from when he found Saphira's egg up until the present. Then the dragon withdrew, and Eragon gasped at how small and alone he suddenly felt. The eldunari spoke again.

_Eragon Shadeslayer, we will aid you. _There was a pause. _My name is Umaroth._ Eragon's eyes widened. It was Vrael's dragon which had spoken to him. Attaching the bag to Saphira, he was about to walk over to Murtagh when he saw that people were approaching them. He walked over with Saphira, using her for support as he was beginning to feel weak again. Approaching the battle site were Lady Nasuada, King Naifel, Nar Garzhvog, Orik, Grimrr Halfpaw, Angela, Solembum, Vea, Roran, and the elves who had been part of his guard before this battle. Unsure what to say, he simply stood there. Alia wound around his ankles, until he almost tripped on her as he tried to take a step forward. Hissing at him without any real malice, she moved to stand at his side instead. Shaking his head to clear it, he examined each of them and was pleased to see that their injuries were minor.

Angela broke the silence, stepping forward. "I find it hard to believe that one as dimwitted as you could have accomplished this, but...congratulations." Eragon smiled at the herbalist's bluntness. She continued. "Where is Murtagh? I was told that you were uncertain of his injuries and will see what I can do for him." When Eragon gestured in the direction, she left with Vea following closely behind. Solembum watched them for a moment before flicking his tail and stalking after them at a slower pace.

Nasuada was the next to speak. "You should sit down, Eragon. You look terrible." Feeling lightheaded, he took her advice, sitting down against Saphira's leg. She laid down, bring her head to hover by his shoulder in a protective way. His head stopped spinning quite so fast after a few moments of sitting down. "We cannot stay here long—our people need guidance—but we did not want to act without speaking to you."

Petting Alia once more as she curled up in his lap, he closed his eyes for a moment. "We must be merciful to any who surrendered. I wouldn't think there would be danger of them trying to rebel without the king as a leader, but...there is always the possibility of revenge."

Saphira nudged him gently. _The palace._

Eragon rubbed her nose in thanks for the reminder and nodded. "Do not enter the palace, and watch anyone who comes out. I do not believe that the king would have held anything back, but there could be danger inside, and none of you know the layout. Either Murtagh or I needs to be there when it is searched.

They agreed without complaint. King Naifel looked over toward where Arya was sitting beside Wyrda. "I need Arya's advice." He said, dismissing himself. "I may be king, but she knows much more about ruling than I do." He walked over.

Nar Garzhvog and Grimrr Halfpaw didn't seem to have anything to say, but both congratulated him. Nasuada smiled at him once more. "I'm going to head back to the city now." He nodded.

Orik smiled widely at him. "You did well. I wasn't sure we could win this, but...you did, and all of you are still alive. Congratulations, Eragon."

The four left.

"Saphira has not been healed yet?" Blödhgarm asked stepping closer now that the leaders were gone. Eragon shook his head, looking up at Saphira with slight worry. She hummed comfortingly.

_I have no terribly serious wounds, Eragon. You do not need to worry about me. _You _are yet worse off that me. _Eragon relaxed, rubbing the scales on her nose just where he knew that she liked it best.

"Thorn is still injured as well." He said. "He will need a lot of healing—though I don't think that he has any life threatening wounds. The group split, but not before Eragon spoke one more time to them. "I have more than enough energy at my disposal to give to you when you need it. Do not worry about asking for it—there is more than enough."

Only Roran was left standing there. He walked over and knelt beside Eragon. "It is _you _who looks like they have not been healed." He commented quietly before embracing Eragon with caution for his injuries. "You did it. It's really over." Roran sat back on his heels. "Are you really alright?" He asked, his voice concerned. "You look as though you are about to faint at any moment."

Eragon touched his stomach and winced. " I _feel _like I am about to faint at any moment." He said wryly. "I don't know how I am. Arya healed my wound, but not completely. I doubt that I will be fully healed for many days to come."

"Were you injured anywhere besides your stomach?" Roran asked. Eragon paused. He remembered suddenly and looked at his arm, but the gaping wound had been sealed. Still, not that he thought about it, he could feel the muted throbbing coming from his arm. Roran shook his head at him. "You are acting strangely, Eragon. Did you hit your head?" Eragon frowned and shook his head. "Saphira?" Eragon scowled as his cousin asked his dragon instead, but both his cousin and his dragon ignored him.

Saphira turned to look at Eragon in concern for a moment before answering. _He was caught in an explosion. I couldn't see him when it happened, but...it is very possible that he either hit his head when he fell or that the explosion itself caused some sort of damage to him._ Ignoring Eragon's annoyance at being ignored, she swung her head around to look at Eragon. Seeing the concern in her eyes, Eragon's irritation faded. He was about to speak and reassure her when he felt Blödhgarm's presence in his mind.

_Shadeslayer, we need more energy now if you are sure that you have it to spare._

Eragon reached out to the eldunari and funneled energy through himself into the elvish spellcasters. By the time he had finished, he felt nauseous. Closing his eyes, he leaned against Saphira and tried to steady his breathing. He could feel her warm breath on him and sensed her worry.

_What happened? _She demanded.

_I don't know._

Eragon coughed as Saphira blew a puff of smoke. She apologized immediately. _If they need more energy, _I _will give it to them._ Eragon simply agreed. His head was spinning to badly for him to respond. It was then that he realized that Roran had been calling his name for the last minute or so. He tried to respond, but couldn't seem to focus enough to answer. He was only vaguely aware of Saphira's alarmed voice in his head before everything faded to black.

**Yeah, so when I said there were going to be only two more chapters... I lied. There might be two more chapters now, but I should stop trying to predict how many chapters I have left. I thought I was nearing the end a LONG time ago with this, but then ended up writing a lot more. Still, I am near the end. Thank you for all the continued support.**


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